Five Days of Midnight
by Some Enchanted Evening
Summary: After saving the world with the help of Lugia, a new evil rises that threatens Kanto and helps Ash realize what's really important. However, in the face of danger, will the realization come too late? AshxMisty, AAML, Pokemon 2000 era. **NOW COMPLETE**
1. Chapter 1

The sun peeped lazily over the horizon, brushing the treetops of the faraway land and casting a shimmering glow across the coo

A/N: This is a post Pokemon 2000 era fic, because I haven't kept up with Pokemon really since about that time, but I used to be a huge fan and lately I've felt nostalgic for how much I used to love it, so I decided to write this fic.

Assuming that the show happens in some what real time as opposed to forever keeping them the same age, I've bumped up the main cast's ages.

**Ash** is fifteen, **Misty** is sixteen, **Tracey** is seventeen and **Brock** is nineteen.

This fic will have AshxMisty and some mild BrockxOther (you'll see as the fic progresses!).

Hope you enjoy! Please leave me some reviews so I know that people are okay with a sort of past-era fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon or any of its characters or concepts.

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**Five Days of Midnight**

**Some Enchanted Evening**

The sun peeped lazily over the horizon, brushing the treetops of the faraway land and casting a shimmering glow across the cool water that sat still and flat and clear as glass until the ship cut across it like the blade of a carving knife. From that point of disturbance the light sprang from the sea and illuminated upon the three trainers who leaned against the sturdy steel railing, resting heavily, their bodies weighed down with fatigue, eyes squinted against the bright sunrise.

Ash Ketchum gripped the railing tightly, his gloves protecting his hands from the stinging cold of early morning metal. Every muscle, every bone in his body ached in an unfamiliar and profound way, each one demanding his utmost care and attention…all at the same time. It was enough to make him want to fall to his knees in exhaustion, the product of the last few days. "And the world shall turn to Ash…" Saving the world, being the fabled "Chosen One" apparently did not supply his body with any sort of supernatural protection and now it was only the outline of his home, Pallet Town, out in the distance and slightly obscured by the low-hanging fog, kept him on his feet.

It had been a long time since Ash had returned home, and five years since he had left in the first place, and maybe he fought as much with Misty as he did before, maybe he dreamed just as strongly, and maybe he still wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but Ash realized for the first time how he had grown up from the child he had been who had left Pallet Town so many years ago with a reluctant Pikachu in tow. The evils he had seen, the forces he had faced, had sped up the end of his childhood and though a dime still wouldn't be put on his maturity, he now walked as though he had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. And he had, before, and he didn't much like the feeling. He felt awkward accepting the praise and thanks of others for doing what was, in his mind, the only choice, and he felt less like a hero and more like a normal guy who had an unlucky streak and kept finding himself in situations that he had to correct.

And now, after his ordeal with Lawerence III and the legendary birds and Lugia, after seeing his mother and hearing her plead with him to be careful, be safe, to keep himself from danger, Ash felt himself longing and craving for home with a sort of insatiable hunger that led him to ask Misty and Tracey if they would mind, really, if they took a detour back to Kanto for some rest and relaxation, at least for a couple of days.

They were unopposed, which Ash had suspected would be the case. Glancing over, he saw that his friends were just as exhausted as he seemed to be, Misty with that ever present messy side ponytail, stray wisps of fire red hair falling across her forehead and down her face, eyes cast down on the sea and actually paying no mind to the cheerful chirps of Togepi, poking out of her backpack, and Tracey with his head burrowed in his arms, showing only a head of black hair. And Pikachu, no longer reluctant but now his most loyal companion, was curled up at Ash's feet and was frankly asleep, his tail curled up around him, content as a cat and lulled to sleep by the soothing swaying of the boat.

"Some rest will be good," he said out loud, and Misty's sleepy gaze flickered over to him.

"Hmm? Yeah," she agreed. "Although I never thought I'd see the day that _you'd _admit it," she couldn't help but throw in, as always, arguing with him with almost every breath she took.

He opened his mouth for his usual sharp retort, because he was Ash and she was Misty and that was how they were—she snapped at him or he snapped at her and the other always rose to the bait. But a wave of sleepiness washed over him, and all he was able to do was yawn hugely, which caused the irritated look on Misty's face to fade and to be replaced by a look of mild amusement.

"Tracey," she said, turning her attention from Ash and instead laying a hand on the other boy's shoulder, giving him a firm shake. "Tracey, we're almost there!"

Tracey gave a indiscernible grunt in response, batting Misty's hand away in irritation. She scowled slightly and went back to shaking him insistently. "Come on, Tracey, get up!"

"Yeah, come on, Tracey, you've been waiting for this!" Ash encouraged. He couldn't believe that he—_he!_—was trying to soothe Misty's easily tripped temper by getting Tracey up as soon as possible—a tired Misty was a cranky Misty and by the glare she was giving their friend Ash didn't doubt that he was about to be on the receiving end of a scream fest—but he had an overwhelming desire for peace and quiet, at least for the time being. He was sure that this was simply a phase that would pass after a couple of days of rest at home, and he was equally as sure that soon he would be back on the receiving end of Misty's anger.

Even the opportunity to visit Professor Oak's lab in Pallet Town couldn't perk up Tracey, and he sullenly and tiredly rested his head on his arms while Misty gave him an annoyed frown for the remainder of the boat ride, one that deepened with each passing moment in which he didn't acknowledge her.

The loudspeaker blared to life. "Now entering Pallet Town Harbour. All those bound for Pallet Town, please get ready to depart the ship."

Ash's heart leapt into his throat at those words, and he felt a renewed energy course through his body. _Home_. He was almost _home_, home to his own town and his own house with his own bed and big, delicious breakfast cooked by his own mother…his mother. He missed her, even if he would never admit it to anyone but himself. Even admitting it to himself made him feel a twinge of embarrassment—he was fifteen, and should be completely self-sufficient by this point! But he couldn't help but run over to the sleeping Pikachu, laughing joyously as he fell to his knees to shake him awake.

"Pikachu! Hey, Pikachu! It's time to wake up, buddy. We're…we're home!"

Pikachu sleepily opened one eye, his ear perking at the word 'home'. "Pi?" he questioned, and Ash nodded.

"Just look!" Ash pointed out towards the now visible shoreline of Pallet Town, and that view alone was enough to make the little Pokemon spring to his feet, with an excited chatter.

Pikachu jumped smoothly up onto Ash's shoulder as Ash made his way, still running, towards the stairway that would take him to the first floor and allow him to depart. He whizzed right by a stunned Misty and Tracey, amazed at his change in demeanor, and didn't wait for them to follow, instead trusting that they would find their way.

"Sorry—sorry, 'scuse me, sorry…" he mumbled as he pushed through crowds of complaining people, all jostling and moving like one large organism to the exit. He slipped through and he was outside, his feet pounding on the aluminum ramp that led to the dock.

And there, just past the dock, was his mother. Delia Ketchum wore a smile from ear to ear, tears welling in her eyes, hands clasped in front of her. Ash ducked his head, suddenly a bit shy, and stuffed his hands in his pockets before walking over to his mom.

He smiled. "Hi, Mom. It's good to be home."

And then he was engulfed.

"Mom! Mom, I can't breathe!" he protested, and truthfully, the embrace _was _a bit too tight on his airpipe, but he didn't completely mind. Pikachu, on the other hand, had ended up crushed between Ash and his mother, and by all accounts was not very happy about that situation at all.

His mother pulled back just a bit, wiping her eyes briefly with one hand while keeping the other arm firmly around her son. "Oh, I'm sorry! I know I'm being silly. But it's just so good to have you home, sweetheart." Again, her arms tightened and both Pikachu and Ash gasped for air. "I've missed you so much!"

"Mrs. Ketchum!" Ash was, despite his happiness at being home and seeing his mother, secretly glad when he heard Misty's voice. And his mom's grip loosened on him so that she could exclaim over Misty and Tracey, and then she took Ash's arm, leading them towards the road.

"Oh, you three look famished," she fretted, and Ash's stomach gave an angry growl in response. Pikachu jumped a bit in surprise, and Ash laughed, relieved to have the weight of the world off of his shoulders and that his biggest worry was what his mom was cooking for lunch.

"Yeah, you could say that," he replied, resting a hand on his very empty stomach.

Misty rolled her eyes. "All you ever think about is your stomach," she complained, hands on her hips.

"I do not! I think about Pokemon," Ash said defensively, sticking his tongue out at her. Childish, even he knew at this point, but it was how he communicated with Misty. Their arguments, far from really making either of them angry at this point as it once had five years ago, now felt as familiar and comforting as…well, he thought…as familiar and comforting as home.

"Oh, that's so much better. Food and Pokemon. You're a genius," Misty sarcastically answered, and Ash primped.

"Glad to see you're finally admitting it."

"Oh, please! Could your ego _get _any bigger?" Misty threw her hands up in exasperation, but there was no real malice behind the move. It was how Ash knew that she saw their fights the same way that he did—they argued, but she never had that angry flash in her eyes or the tightness in her limbs that she used to that told him how angry he made her.

Just then, Misty's stomach gave a growl. "Ha!" Ash crowed in triumph. "You're hungry, too!"

Misty wrinkled her nose and similarly stuck out her tongue at him, and Ash grinned, pulling his trusted Pokemon League cap down further on his messy dark hair to shield out the bright sunlight. While Tracey had completely ignored the exchange that had taken place, too busy finally starting to realize that he was in the same town at Professor Oak and too used to their antics to really care one way or another as to who won this particular battle, Ash's mom chuckled, shaking her head ruefully.

"What?" Ash asked, blinking in confusion.

"Oh, nothing," she sighed, smiling and looking from him to Misty. "My little baby is growing up, that's all." She rested a hand fondly on his shoulder for a moment, and Ash wrinkled his brow in confusion.

"Um, yeah. I guess I am?" he replied, unsure as to why his mother was bringing it up now, and she smiled warmly, that secretive smile that all mothers seemed to have that said that they knew something their child didn't. Ash shrugged, too concerned with getting home and getting lunch to worry about it now.

"Oh!" Mrs. Ketchum exclaimed suddenly, clapping her hands together. "I almost forgot to tell you! I have a surprise for you back at the house."

"A surprise?" Ash asked eagerly, all kinds of delicious possibilities running through his mind. "Did Mr. Mime make potato soup?"

"No, no, better than that," his mother brushed of his guess, and Ash frowned, confused.

"Better than Mr. Mime's potato soup?" In Ash's mind, that didn't leave too many possibilities.

They rounded the last turn to Ash's house, and Ash's heart swelled at the sight. Mr. Mime was sweeping the front porch, and it noticed them approaching and jumped about in excitement. "Mime, Mime, Mime!" it cried happily, and Ash laughed.

"Hi, Mr. Mime!" he yelled back.

"Hello!" a familiar voice called out, coming out of the house and waving happily at them.

"Brock!" Misty squealed in excitement, pushing through Ash and Tracey and Mrs. Ketchum to go greet their old friend, laughing happily.

"Brock!" Ash echoed, a broad grin spreading across his face. "So that's the surprise! _Brock's _cooking for us! That's awesome!"

"Well, I thought you'd be excited enough to see your friend without considering your stomach," his mother lectured sternly.

"Pika!" Pikachu chirped in eager agreement, leaping from Ash's shoulder to scamper after Misty down the rest of the dirt path and up the wooden stairs to the porch of Ash's house. Infected with their excitement, Ash and Tracey hurried the rest of the way as well, leaving Mrs. Ketchum to follow serenely in the wake of their newfound energy.

"Brock! It's so good to see you!" Misty gushed, throwing her arms around their friend. "What are you doing here? I thought you were still at Professor Ivy's lab!"

"Toge, toge!" Misty's baby Pokemon decided to poke his head out of Misty's backpack, awakened by the sudden rush of excitement.

"I was, but she asked me to bring a package to Professor Oak, and I heard you guys were going to be in town, so I stayed with your mom for a little while, Ash. I've missed you guys," Brock laughed, putting his arms around Misty as well.

Ash felt a twinge of something in the pit of his stomach as he watched Brock wrap Misty in a warm embrace. It must be hunger, he decided, and the lack of food was responsible for his insides twisting in such an unpleasant manner.

Tracey nudged him lightly, watching Misty and Brock hug. "Are they…were there…_you know_," Tracey said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Ash scowled, while Misty and Brock, having overheard the question, looked shocked.

"No!" Ash, Misty, and Brock all exclaimed at the same time. Misty and Brock looked put-off by the question, and even a little queasy at the misinterpretation, and Ash just looked annoyed.

Tracey held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! I was just asking!"

The feeling in his stomach seemed to ease when Brock turned to Ash now, holding out his hand, and the two clasped hands familiarly. "How've you been, Ash? Besides being busy saving the world?" Brock teased.

Ash smiled sheepishly, resting a hand on the back of his head in embarrassment. "Well. You know. It happens," he said awkwardly.

"You guys must be starving," Brock said, addressing the whole group now. "I've made some stew, it's just about done."

Ash brightened. "All _right_! I was hoping you'd say that you cooked!" And he raced into the house, Pikachu on his heels, tossing his backpack sloppily into the foyer and losing his hat and jacket at some point while passing through the living room.

Misty rolled her eyes at Brock and Tracey before heading into the Ketchum house as well. "Are you hungry, Togepi?" she asked the baby Pokemon poking out of her backpack, smiling warmly while glancing back over her shoulder, and Togepi chirped happily in response.

Brock's cooking was just as great as Ash had remembered, and it was a relief to discover that their time apart hadn't changed anything—Brock was still Brock, and the conversation between the three was as natural and fluid as it has always been, while Tracey got to know the dynamics of the group he had entered just a few months ago. Ash liked Tracey, of course, and thought of him as a great friend, but he wasn't Brock and he definitely wasn't Misty. Brock and Misty had been with him since the beginning, Brock and Misty knew everything he had gone through, had watched him grow over the years. Brock and Misty were his closest friends—well, closest human friends—and since Brock had left, it had been Ash and Misty, with Tracey just hovering on the outside of a bond that he couldn't ever completely understand, just by virtue of having not been there.

"This is so great," Ash mumbled with his mouth full of Brock's delicious stew.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Misty and Mrs. Ketchum said at the same time, and Ash made a face at them.

"Okay, _Mom_," he said sarcastically, glancing Misty's way. She made a face back at him, and Brock laughed.

"You guys are never going to change," he said fondly, clapping a hand on Ash's shoulder. "Are you sick of them yet?" he asked, addressing Tracey now.

"Of them bickering like an old married couple? Yeah, but you kind of get used to it in time. Do they ever stop?" Tracey inquired.

"Nope," Brock answered solemnly. "Been like that since day one."

"Hey!" Misty and Ash exclaimed at the same time, united in their offense. Ash glanced down at his bowl, feeling the heat of an embarrassed flush rushing up to his face. He really didn't think that he and Misty argued like an old married couple; they argued like…well…like Ash and Misty! It was just how they were, and everyone always insisted in seeing something more in it, when really…well…it was just him and Misty.

"What?" Brock protested. "It's true!"

Ash quickly tossed his spoon down with a clatter, eager to get up and change the topic, eager to move on from a topic that didn't feel quite comfortable anymore. "How about swinging by Professor Oak's lab, Pikachu?" he asked, looking down to where Pikachu was sharing his Pokechow with Togepi.

"Pikachu," he said in agreement, springing to his feet.

Tracey choked on his soup. "Professor Oak? Now? Right now?" he squeaked, and Ash smirked, feeling as though he was getting his revenge for Tracey's teasing.

"Yeah, c'mon, Tracey. You've been waiting long enough, don't you think?" Ash grinned, grabbing his cap and jacket from where he had lazily tossed them before.

Misty stood, lifting Togepi up into his arms. "Come on, we'll all go," she said soothingly to Tracey. "It'll be fine. He's just Professor Oak."

Tracey looked scandalized. "_Just _Professor Oak? _Just _Professor Oak??"

"Yeah," Ash answered, honestly looking bewildered. "It's just Professor Oak."

But this assurance didn't stop Tracey from practicing what he would say, how he would stand, what gestures he would make, all the way from Ash's house to Professor Oak's lab. Ash led the way, Misty and Brock and Tracey following in his wake, Pikachu riding comfortably on his hat. It was funny to think that the first time Ash and Pikachu had been together in Professor Oak's lab, he could never imagine such a comfortable scenario taking place, so determined had his now best friend been to dislike him.

The laboratory was set up as Ash remembered, with far more contraptions than he could ever imagine having use for. "Professer Oak?" he called out, his voice echoing in the empty dome. "Professor Oak?" He paused, but hearing no answer, frowned. "Huh. That's weird. Mom said that he was going to be in the lab today."

"Yes?" a voice echoed. "Who's there? I'm up here!" And Ash looked up, high into the rafters, and there was Professor Oak, on the third floor balcony of the large dome, carefully examining a Pidgey in a cage, jotting notes down on his notepad.

"Professor!" Ash called back. "It's me! Ash!"

"Ah, yes, Ash, your mother mentioned you might be stopping by. Hold on just one moment, I'll be right down."

Tracey, unlike his normal bold self, melted to the back of the group when Professor Oak made his appearance a few moments later, the ranting and rambling he had forced upon Ash and Misty for the last couple of months forgotten, as well as the phone conversations with Professor Oak. Apparently face-to-face, in person contact was a completely different matter, because Tracey was simply staring with his mouth open, his cheeks a flushed red.

"Hi, Professor Oak," Misty greeted, obviously nowhere near as starstruck at Tracey. She glanced up at the balcony where Oak had previously been. "What were you doing with that Pidgey up there?"

"Huh? Oh, I was examining it. The Pokemon around here have been showing unusual behavior lately," Oak explained.

"Unusual? Unusual how?" Misty asked, confused. She instinctively tightened her grip a little bit on Togepi in her arms, and it trilled in excitement.

"They've seemed unusually agitated. And aggressive."

Ash blinked, looking down at Pikachu at his feet. "Pikachu, have you been feeling unusually agitated? Or aggressive?"

"Pika?" Pikachu blinked back at him, tilting his head to the side, similarly confused.

"Professor Ivy was saying the same thing before I left…" Brock mused. "She said that she had a Sandshrew nearly slash her hand."

Professor Oak nodded gravely. "Yes. I had a message from her. It's quite unusual."

Some of Tracey's shock seemed to have worn off with this interesting news, and he finally joined the conversation. "Maybe it's related to what just happened out in the Orange Islands?" he suggested. "The Pokemon were acting strangely at the time, maybe it'll just take some time for things to get back to normal." Then, eyes gleaming, he seized Professor Oak's hand and shook it frantically. "And can I just say, sir, that it's just an _honor _to finally meet you in person, after following your work for…well, practically my whole life!" he gushed.

"Er, yes…yes, of course," Professor Oak answered uncertainly, reclaiming his hand and shaking it out. Once he seemed past Tracey's odd behavior, he stopped to consider what he had said. "I suppose it is a possibility that the Pokemon are reacting to the earth's shifting once more. Even though it is shifting back to normal, the way it is supposed to be, it's still a shift nonetheless and is likely to disturb some Pokemon." He glanced up, to where the Pidgey was fluttering in the cage. "Still. It's all very strange. I plan on keeping a close eye on the situation."

"Well, the last thing we need is more trouble…" Misty fretted a bit, cuddling Togepi closer.

"Don't worry about it, Misty," Ash assured her in a carefree tone. "Everything's fine! And we'll have a few days to relax right here in Pallet Town!"

Misty hesitated. "Actually…"

"Actually…?" Ash echoed, suspiciously.

"I thought maybe we could make a stop in Cerulean to see my sisters," Misty suggested. She got a bit of a sour look on her face. "And make sure that they're actually battling trainers instead of just handing out badges to anyone who stops to ask for one."

"Misty…" Ash whined. "You're the one who's always complaining that we never take a break! And it'll take forever to get to Cerulean!"

"Well, after we stop for a rest we're heading back out of Kanto, and who knows when we'll be back?" Misty demanded defensively. "You got to see your family, now I want to see mine!"

"You just want to see them so that you can boss your sisters around!" Ash accused. Maybe he was being unfair, but he was tired and had just had to save the world and all he wanted was a few days at home and it looked as though he wasn't going to get that, and well, in his opinion, that wasn't any more fair.

Tracey looked pained. "I really don't want to head out to Cerulean," he said. "I'd really love to be able to stay and study with you in your lab for awhile, Professor."

"Actually, I haven't been back to Pewter for a really long time," Brock interjected. "I could use with a stop, and then we could go on to Cerulean from there."

"Brock!" Ash protested. "Don't take _her _side!"

To his immense surprise, Misty didn't respond by yelling at him or smacking him across the head, like she so often did. Instead, she smiled, and Ash eyed her suspiciously. "Come on, Ash. It'll just be a detour. Brock and I will get to visit home, and Tracey can study with Professor Oak. Then we can come back to Pallet." She smiled at Brock now, as well. "The three of us. It'll be like old times."

Despite himself, the idea of getting to go back to 'old times', for a time however brief, appealed to Ash. He had missed Brock, and missed things the way were when he, Brock, and Misty were all together. It had felt like a simpler time.

"Pikapi, Pikachu," Pikachu exclaimed, tugging on Ash's pant leg, obviously in agreement with Misty and Brock.

Ash sighed heavily, giving in to the pressure, but not without a pout. "_Fine_," he said dramatically. "Can we at least wait until tomorrow?"

"Sure we can," Brock said easily, shooting Misty a look that told her that she'd better not argue under any terms.

"Good," Ash said, and pointed at Misty. "And until then, I'm going to sleep and eat, and eat and sleep, and I don't want you to say anything about it!"

"Fine," she replied loftily. "And tomorrow we head off for Pewter and Cerulean."

"Yeah," Ash said with another sigh. "Tomorrow, Pewter and Cerulean."

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This chapter, obviously, was just a set-up for what's going to happen! I hope I interested at least some of you into reading more. Please leave me some reviews, I love getting comments!

My Christmas break is coming up soon, so I hope to get a good amount of this fic done in that time.

Again, hope you enjoyed, please leave reviews!


	2. Chapter 2

"I can't believe we're lost

A/N: This chapter was actually mostly done by the time I finished Chapter 1, so chapters probably won't usually get churned out this quickly. However, my winter break is coming up, as I mentioned before, so hopefully chapters won't be too long in coming out. I'm having a good time with this fic so I'm writing faster than I normally do.

So, um, thanks to all…one of my reviewers! Yay! waves a flag for Bittersweet Romanticide Seriously guys, I KNOW more than one person is reading this fic, because I've already gotten about 50 hits, and a couple of people even put it on alert/favs without leaving a review. Please take the time to leave a review! I really appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon or any of its characters or concepts.

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**Five Days of Midnight**

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 2 **

It was a familiar scene, Ash leading the way of the group with a grumbling Misty and Brock following behind him, Pikachu sitting on his hat as the leaves crunched under their shoes.

"I can't believe we're lost!" Misty exclaimed for what Ash was sure was the tenth time at least.

"We're not lost!" he snapped back, defensively.

"We are _so _lost! I know we've passed by that tree before!"

"How do you know that? _All the trees look the same!_"

"_Exactly! So how do you know we're not lost?_"

"Would you guys can it? Man, don't you ever get tired of bickering?" Brock finally interjected, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I had a nice long break from you two going at it, and it's only been a few days back, and already I'm ready to shove a sock in both of your mouths!"

Misty pressed her lips together, obviously biting her tongue against a myraid of retorts, and Brock sighed in relief, rubbing his temples against the onset of a headache.

They had been wandering around Viridian Forest for quite some time now, and couldn't seem to find their way out again. They had, of course, forgotten the map but Ash hadn't been worried because he had been sure that he had known exactly where he was going. He was still pretty sure that he knew how to get out, but of course Brock and Misty didn't trust him. He supposed that was part of reliving the 'good old times'.

They were tired after hours of searching, and now there were no longer certain which way they had come and which way they needed to go. Ash, however, remained certain that they would eventually find their way out and end up in Pewter City. They always seemed to find their way out in the end.

He plopped down on the ground, resting his head against his knees. "Man. I'm tired." He was actually pretty sure, at this point, that they _were_, in fact, lost. However, he didn't want to give Misty the satisfaction of hearing him say so. No matter how their friendship might have evolved, he still knew that if he came out and admitted he was wrong, he would never hear the end of it.

"'Chu," Pikachu sighed in agreement, slumping next to Ash.

"Well, we can't rest _now_," Misty protested.

"Why not?" Ash asked. "We've been walking for hours. Let's just sit down for a couple of minutes and eat."

"Again with the stomach," she muttered in response, but Misty and Brock sat down next to Ash, reaching into their packs for some of the food they had packed for leaving Pallet Town.

"It's been so long since we've been here," Misty said wonderingly, glancing around the tall trees of Viridian Forest that hovered over them like giants, ominous and yet startlingly beautiful.

"Yeah…" Ash answered, and then grinned and nudged her playfully. "If we're lucky, we'll run into some more Caterpies!" He laughed out loud at his own joke, until Misty gave him a shove so that he fell against Brock.

"Oh, be quiet," she grumbled. "Just because I don't like icky gross _bug _Pokemon…"

"Caterpie wasn't gross!" Ash protested before taking a big bite out of his apple.

"Yeah, he wasn't once he evolved into Butterfree!" Misty replied, reaching into her own pack to withdraw some Pokechow for Togepi. She happily fed the little Pokemon, handing some of the Pokechow to Pikachu so that he could enjoy it as well.

Ash sighed a bit. He missed Butterfree. It was always hard to let his Pokemon go, even though he knew it was part of becoming a Pokemon Master. At least he'd always have Pikachu, he thought, smiling as Pikachu happily ate his lunch. Pikachu shared Ash's appetite, that much was certain.

Suddenly, Misty sat up, her posture stiffening considerably. Ash looked at her curiously.

"What's wrong?" He tried not to, but a smirk flickered across his face. "See a Caterpie? Or maybe a Weedle?"

"No," Misty said, with no trace of humor nor annoyance in her voice. She merely sounded worried and this caused the smirk to fade from Ash's face as he examined her face more closely. Her bright blue-green eyes were darting to and fro, as though she were on the lookout for something to jump out at her, and her hands shakily put Togepi back into her safe, worn red backpack before curling them into fists at her side. "I thought I heard something." Her voice was barely a whisper, as though she were afraid that any sudden loud noise would cause disaster, and Ash pricked his ear instinctively.

"I don't hear anything," he said honestly. He looked at Brock for confirmation, and Brock simply shrugged in response, which Ash took to mean that he didn't hear whatever was spooking Misty, either.

She really did look frightened now, and Ash felt slightly bad for teasing her before. It was fun to see Misty overreact to a little bug Pokemon, but he didn't like seeing her genuinely upset. "Misty, it's fine. There's nothing," he assured her, trying to be comforting.

She wrinkled her brow, standing up, her arms wrapped around herself. "I heard…it was…like a flutter."

"Maybe a Pidgey overhead," Brock suggested, but Misty shook her head.

"No. It was…louder."

Ash paused, straining to hear, but he couldn't hear whatever had startled Misty. He shook his head. "Misty, I think you're losing it. There's nothing out there." He studied her face, taut and tense. "Come on," he suggested kindly. "Sit back down. Relax. It's _fine_."

"Maybe you're right…" Misty said reluctantly. "Maybe it's just my imagination. Viridian Forest can be kind of spooky." But she made no move to sit down, clutching the backpack that now held Togepi tightly.

Brock offered her a smile. "It's fine. It's been a long time since we've been here. We forget what it sounds like," he assured.

"Yeah…" Misty answered distractedly, still glancing around.

"Pika! Pika!" Pikachu suddenly yelped, springing to his feet, and at the next moment, Ash felt something hard and sharp smack the back of his head, causing him to duck forward and reach behind his head, massaging right at his hairline.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed instinctively, bringing his gloved hand back to the front. It was stained slightly in red, and his eyes widened in shock at the sight of the blood. "What was that?"

But he didn't have time to wonder further, because Misty was shrieking, "_Run_!" And then she was grabbing his hand and hauling him to his feet, barely giving him to time to grab his backpack before racing after her, Brock and Pikachu hot on their heels.

They crashed through underbrush and between narrow trees, hoping that heading off the trail would confuse their attacker. Ash felt branches and brush claw at his ankles, as though trying to keep him back and lead him to his doom, and still the group crashed through it, too afraid of what would happen if they stopped running to try and think of a way out of this situation

"What is it?" Ash yelled again over the sounds of their pounding feet and short, sharp breaths, and the sudden shrieking that had filled the air, angry cries that he had never before heard in the Viridian Forest. .

"A flock of Pidgies!" Misty yelled, running still faster, and Ash stumbled to catch up, shocked by what she had just told him.

"Of _Pidgies_?" Ash had, of course, had run-ins with Spearows before. In fact, he mused briefly, that was what led him to meeting the girl who was now dragging him through the woods in the first place. But Spearows were notorious for having nasty tempers, while Pidgies were more often regarded as a docile, harmless Pokemon. But the sting at the back of his head spoke differently, and so did the angry swoop of wings right above their heads as the Pokemon continued to dive bomb their group. Incredulous, he turned his head, needing to see this attacking flock of Pidgies for himself in order to believe it.

"Don't look! Just run!" Brock roared at him, pushing his back forward. Ash's eyes widened when he saw a nasty scratch running along Brock's hand.

"The _Pidgies _did that?" he demanded, and Misty let out a cry as one of the Pidgies crashed down on her now, nipping rather sharply on her upper arm.

"Misty!" Ash yelled, and lost his footing as he tripped over a root, bringing Brock and Misty down with him in a heap. He winced as the stones and branches cut into his fingers as he reached out to brace himself as he fell to the ground. "Cover your heads!" he yelled as he realized that they were now open targets for the Pidgies who were swarming down upon them, like an angry blur of tan and brown, and Ash never, never thought that he'd be so afraid of a group of _Pidgies_. He slammed his hands over the back of his head, feeling the cut there throb as he did so, but he would rather deal with that and whatever trauma his hands were about to take over more cuts in his head and neck.

"_Pi…ka…CHU!_"

The sound was as welcome as the sight of Pallet Town had been, and Ash sighed in relief as the sky was illuminated with Pikachu's Thunderbolt attack, as powerful and reliable as ever. There was a horrible cry as the flock of Pidgies squawked as one, a cry of pain and frustration, and Ash instinctively clamped his hands over his ears. And then there was a flapping as the wounded Pidgies flew weakly away from the heap of trainers and Pokemon that they had targeted.

The trio and Pikachu laid there for a long moment, tangled up in one another, a mass of arms and legs and bodies, too terrified to move and even to speak until Misty finally squeaked, somewhere near Ash's left shoulder, "Is…is it over?"

Ash held his breath, hesitating for a moment before lifting his head. The sky was clear and the sun shone down through the leaves, and he squinted in the bright light. It was as though nothing had happened, as though it had been their imagination. The forest felt too peaceful for anything as frightening as what they had just witnessed to occur. The only thing suggesting that they had not merely fallen asleep and dreamed of the attack was the wake of destruction they had left as they had crashed through the forest.

"I…" he cleared his throat as his voice cracked in his nervousness. "I think so."

Cautiously, Misty, Brock, and Pikachu followed his lead and sat up, glancing around carefully in the same manner that Misty had before the attacks had taken place, waiting, on guard, for anything out of the ordinary that might signal another attack.

Ash exhaled. "Thanks, Pikachu," he said gratefully.

Misty pawed through her backpack, withdrawing a distressed Togepi. "Oh, Togepi. It's okay. You're okay," she soothed, rocking Togepi gently. "It's over now. Mommy's here."

"What _was _that?" Brock mused. "I've never seen a group of Pidgies act that way!" He shook out his hand, stinging and bleeding slightly. "They just attacked us out of nowhere!"

"I know…" Ash said, concerned. "Everyone all right?" he asked, addressing the group as a whole.

"Pika…" Pikachu replied, a bit dazed and scratched from darting through the forest so quickly, but otherwise seemingly fine.

"I think so," Misty agreed, gazing up towards the sky, shielding her eyes from the sunlight. "Do you think…do you think they're gone?"

"I hope so," said Brock grimly. "But now we're even more lost than before."

"What should we do?" Misty asked quietly, hugging Togepi.

The crunch of the leaves a few feet away seemed to answer her question, and Ash stiffened, anticipating another attack. Instinctively he reached for the Pokeballs at his waist, and he saw Pikachu's cheeks spark with electricity as he too, prepared for another battle. Misty and Brock whipped around to face the sound, so that the three trainers sat side-by-side once more, instinctively huddling closer as the sound grew louder and louder in approach, trusting their power in numbers.

"Who's there?" Ash yelled out, but there was no answer, merely the steady 'crunch, crunch' that grew closer every moment.

"Ash…" Misty said, her voice tight with nerves, the sound barely escaping her throat in a breath no louder than a whisper.

"_Who's there_?" Ash demanded again, his own voice shaking a bit with fear despite his desire to stay firm and brave. When again there came no answer but the steady crunching of someone…or something…approaching, he growled under his breath in frustration, and withdrew a Pokeball from his belt. "That's it. _Squirtle, I choose you!_"

The turtle Pokemon exploded from his Pokeball in a bright flash of light, blinking expectantly at Ash, awaiting instruction. "Squirle squirt."

"Squirtle, Water Gun Attack into the—"

"Recall your Pokemon, son," a deep voice grumbled, seeming to come from the very depths of the woods itself.

"Who are you?" Now it was Brock who called out, his voice angry and his fists clenched at his sides with determination.

A figure stepped out from behind one of the trees, finally coming into clear view. He was tall, much taller than Misty and Ash and a good deal taller than Brock as well, and stocky, an all around imposing figure. His black hair was heavily streaked with grey, and he sported a large mustache as well as a beard that looked like it was in need of trimming. His sharp grey eyes fixed on them with an intense gaze that made them squirm in discomfort, and he had his large hands shoved into the pockets of his grimly jeans. If ever there was a 'man of the mountains', certainly the man standing before them was it.

"Squirtle…" the water Pokemon mumbled, taking a few hesitant steps backwards.

"Go ahead," the mysterious man said gruffly. "Call him back."

"First tell us who you are," Ash demanded.

"Pikachu!" Pikachu agreed firmly, a few warning sparks dancing about his cheeks.

"My name is Samuel," the man finally said. "And if you call off your Pokemon from attacking, I can help you out of Viridian Forest. I live just on the edge of the forest. I know my way through here well."

Ash gave a side-long glance at Misty and Brock. "Think we should trust him?" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Misty hesitated. "I guess it's better than wandering around the forest for days on end," she said softly in response.

"Yeah…" Brock agreed uncertainly. "Let's just be on our guard."

"Right," Ash agreed, and held out the Pokeball once more. "Squirtle, return." The Pokemon disappeared in a beam of red light, and Ash cautiously replaced the Pokeball to his belt before clambering to his feet. Misty and Brock followed suit, Misty carefully dusting the leaves and dirt from her clothing and legs before slinging her backpack back onto her shoulders, still holding Togepi tight.

Shoulder to shoulder, the three trainers stood like a wall. Even Pikachu was standing strong and steady at Ash's leg, glaring at the man who had introduced himself as Samuel as though he suspected him of having something to do with the string of bad look they had encountered so far.

"Come with me," Samuel said, his deep voice echoing ominously throughout the clearing. "The forest is dangerous at night."

Misty, standing between Ash and Brock, her arms around Togepi, wrinkled her brow in confusion. "But it's the middle of the afternoon!" she pointed out, bewildered. She glanced up through the treetops where the sunshine was streaming through, which proved her point quite clearly.

"Yes," Samuel agreed solemnly. "But it won't be for long." Without another glance, he turned around, heading back the way he came. "Follow me," he called over his shoulder, but he didn't wait to see if they were following.

Ash, Misty, and Brock hesitated. "Do you think we should?" Brock asked in a low voice.

"I…guess so," Ash replied, not sounding at all certain.

"Well then, I guess we should…go, then," Misty chimed in. She reached around to place Togepi back in her bag before looping one arm through Ash's arm and the other through Brock's. "Let's not get separated," she said as way of explanation.

"Pika," Pikachu agreed, leaping up on Ash's shoulder so that the group could move as one unit, keeping a safe couple of paces between Samuel and themselves. He never looked back to make sure that they followed, and this only intensified the feeling of unease. They all walked in silence, the only sound the crushing of branches beneath feet, and Misty gripped Ash's and Brock's arms a little bit tighter.

They continued to walk for several hours, the sun beginning to dip below the treetops and the forest slowly becoming cast over with darkness, and Ash was immensely glad that they were not alone, even if he didn't know where the man who claimed to want to help them was planning on taking them.

Suddenly, though, Misty brightened, and spoke the first words to be uttered since they had started following Samuel. "Oh, look!" she exclaimed in relief, pointing to where they could clearly see the thinning of the trees and beyond that, a wide span of flat land. The edge of the forest, the end that they had been searching for for hours on end, and Ash felt his stomach flood with relief at the realization that they hadn't been led into some kind of death trap.

It wasn't until they had made it the last couple of yards to the edge of Viridian Forest, and they were safely out of the woods, that Samuel finally turned back to them again.

"Um. Thank you," Ash said awkwardly as the man regarded them, his eyes narrowed as though he could see right through them and know their deepest thoughts.

Samuel nodded heavily. "Come on," he said gruffly, nodding towards an old-fashioned log cabin, obviously built from hand, that sat a few yards off. "You kids can stay for the night. You shouldn't be walking around at night. Not safe."

The house was low and long, and small, with a thatched roof and a long rickety fence running along the perimeter. It didn't look completely run-down, but nor did it seem to be kept up with loving care. The cobblestone path leading from the creaky gate to the equally creaky stairs that led up to the front door was overrun with weeds, and the garden in the small backyard looked abandoned. Still, Ash allowed, it looked preferable to sleeping on the cold, damp floor of Viridian Forest.

Samuel pushed open the gate, and it yielded to him with a loud squeak. "Well, come on," he grunted at them. "Let's get you kids inside. You can camp out in the den for the night."

Reluctantly Misty released her grip on Ash and Brock's arms so that the three could fall into a single file as they headed through the gate.

"This place kind of gives me the creeps," Brock said under his breath.

Misty gave him a hesitant smile. "I think I'd rather take my chances here than out in the forest with those Pidgies."

"Misty's right," Ash said, and she gave him a bewildered look—he supposed he didn't say those words that often. Probably about as often as Misty herself said 'Ash is right'.

Samuel pushed open the door to his home, and flickered the light. Ash felt himself relax a bit—the inside of the cabin looked homely, if a bit worn and cluttered. The couches looked old and well-used, but comfortable, and there was a large shag rug that spread across most of the wooden floor.

"Your home is very nice," Misty said politely, still hovering near Ash and Brock uncertainly. Samuel merely grunted in response.

"You kids are probably hungry," he muttered. "I have some leftovers I'll put on the stove."

"That's very kind of you," Misty replied, still a bit uncertain but warming up slightly.

"Yeah, thanks," Ash chimed in automatically, swinging his backpack off and tossing it down on the couch. Pikachu hopped off of his shoulder and settled himself on the couch, curling up sleepily.

Samuel raised an eyebrow. "That's a pretty nasty cut you have on the back of your neck, son," he said to Ash. "Wait right here."

"Um…" Ash shrank back instinctively as Samuel disappeared, and even further when he reappeared with a washcloth that had a glob of nasty looking purple cream in it clutched in his giant hands. "No, no, really, I'm fine," he tried to assure.

"Don't be an idiot, boy," Samuel said irritably. "It'll get infected. Sit down and I'll get you cleaned up in no time."

"No, really, I'm great!" Ash squeaked, cowering back from the giant of a man, resisting the urge to duck behind Brock.

Samuel scowled, approaching and easily pushing Ash down into a sitting position on the couch with one large hand on his shoulder. "Hey! Wait a minute!" he sputtered, trying to get up to no avail.

"Wait," Misty interrupted suddenly. "Here. I'll do it." She took the washcloth from Samuel, and Ash watched her apprehensively.

"Do I have to?" he asked pitifully.

"Just sit still." Misty's voice was surprisingly calm and soothing, and so he decided to follow her orders and he sat quietly. Samuel removed his heavy hand when he saw that Ash had given in, and Ash closed his eyes against the sting of the cream against his neck.

He had to admit that he was glad that Misty had offered to do it instead of Samuel. Samuel looked like the kind of guy who could accidently break your neck in half, with those huge hands and not very careful nature. Misty's hands were cool and gentle as she dabbed at the back of his neck, right below his hairline, and her hands were normal-sized, especially when compared to Samuel.

And, well, he trusted Misty. Much more than he would trust some strange man that they can come across—rather, who had come across _them_—in the woods, a man whose intentions they still didn't know.

That probably wasn't a fair comparison. He trusted Misty more than he trusted a lot of people, not just more than this man they had just met. She was one of the few people in the world that he knew he was safe with, that he knew he could say anything and do anything and it would be okay in the morning. It was a comforting feeling, as comforting as the feeling of Misty's fingers gently patting the back of his neck dry.

"There," she said softly. "All done."

"Thanks," Ash replied sheepishly. He glanced over his shoulder at Misty, and was a bit surprised by the look she was giving him. There was something brimming in her eyes that he couldn't determine, something he couldn't quite recognize. "Are you okay?"

She blinked and the look was gone. "I'm fine. Are _you _okay?"

"Yeah…it feels better." He went to rub the back of his neck, but Misty slapped his hand lightly.

"Don't _touch _it," she scolded. "You'll wipe all the cream off!"

"Okay, okay, sorry, sorry," Ash answered, holding his hands up in surrender. Then, he took the washcloth from Misty, turning to face her. "Here." He pressed the cloth against the cut on her arm, watching her instinctively bite her lip. "Yeah, I know, it stings," he said ruefully, honestly feeling guilty about the situation. But, well, it wasn't something he could help, nor could he help Pikachu's misery as he turned next to his slightly battered Pokemon. Instead, all of his concentration went to begging the electric mouse not to electrocute him.

He stole a glance under his cap over at where Misty was now cleaning Brock's wound. She would be a good nurse, he thought as he watched her careful, precise movements. Although she hadn't been born a Joy, which Ash was now sure was a requirement for the position. But still, there was an innate gentleness in her actions. If not a good nurse, she'd be a good mother one day. But it was odd, and slightly uncomfortable, to think of Misty as a mother. Misty would forever be to him the redheaded hellion who had fished him out of the river almost five years ago. Even as they grew up, it was hard to imagine her different than what she was now.

"What happened to you kids, anyway?" Samuel's voice broke Ash from his thoughts, and he looked up at the man who was watching them with folded arms. "You look like you've been to hell and back."

"We were attacked by a flock of _Pidgies_!" Ash blurted out, the shock of what had transpired still heavy in his voice. "Of _Pidgies_!" he repeated, in case Samuel didn't grasp the importance of the fact that a group of normally docile Pokemon had launched a full-blown attack on the group.

Samuel wrinkled his brow. "Pidgies, you say."

"Professor Oak had said that the Pokemon were acting surprisingly agitated and aggressive lately," Misty pointed out quietly.

Samuel moved to the window, looking out at the setting sun, obviously lost in thought. His hands gripped the wooden windowsill and Ash was certain that it would crumble beneath his grip. "So. Is it time?" he wondered out loud, asking seemingly no one.

"Time for what?" Misty asked, instinctively reaching for Togepi, now poking its head out of her bag, and clutching it tightly.

Samuel hesitated, obviously weighing the options in his mind. "Well. There is a legend…" he started, obviously not completely willing to share what he knew. But it wouldn't have mattered how willing he was or was not, because he was immediately cut off by Ash.

"Oh no," Ash said stubbornly, holding his hands up in defense. "No more legends! I have had my _fill _of legends for awhile, thank you very much!"

Misty looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Ash? What's the matter with you?"

"We just had to save the world!" Ash fairly exploded. "We're supposed to be _resting_!"

"But this could be important," Misty insisted. "What if the Pokemon are acting oddly for a reason? There could be something big going on!"

"Then let someone else do something about it," he replied through gritted teeth. "Why does it always have to be us? Why does it always have to be me? Why are we supposed to be the saviors of the world?" He looked down at his lap, a bit ashamed of his outburst, but unwilling to take back the words that he had, despite himself, meant.

A gentle hand landed on his forearm, and he glanced up at Misty, surprised that she hadn't started yelling at him, calling him a coward, lazy, anything mean that she could hurtle at him. Instead, she looked serious and her eyes shone with sympathy and warmth. "Hey," she said, and her voice was as gentle as her touch, as calming as rolling waves on a beach, and for a moment Ash let the sound wash over him. "Are you okay?"

"I almost died," he said softly, shocked into honesty by her soft response. "I almost died, and I don't care about me, but I was the 'Chosen One' and if I died, well, that was it for the world. I don't want the weight of the world on my shoulders again. It's too hard." He smiled a bit weakly. "I didn't sign up for this. I signed up to train Pokemon. Be a Pokemon Master. Those are things I can handle. Y'know? But I just…I don't want to get mixed up in any more legends that decide the fate of the world."

Misty made a bit of a sudden move, and for a moment, Ash thought that she was going to embrace him. She seemed to catch herself, and instead she rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. "Yeah. I know," she said softly. "It's okay."

He let out his breath in a rush, relief washing over him. He felt as though they had dodged a bullet—if they didn't hear about whatever the supposed 'legend' was that Samuel was going on about, then they couldn't get involved. They could go about their lives and finish their rest and then they could move on to Johto where Ash could start collecting badges again. Badges, and training…Pokemon and battles. Those were the things he was comfortable with, the things he knew and trusted. "Thanks," he told Misty gratefully, and she flushed a bit before removing her hand from his shoulder.

Ash put Samuel's hesitant voice…_there is a legend…_out of his mind for the night, and concentrated instead on relaxing and enjoying the stew that Samuel had heated for them. The air was now quiet and solemn, the things left unsaid hanging in the air like a fog that separated each from the others. It was lonely in the room, although they all sat together.

But he pushed the concerns aside when it was time to curl up in his sleeping bag on the shag rug, and exhaustion hit him nearly as hard as that Pidgey in the woods had. Pikachu curled up next to him, and Ash himself curled up on his side so that he wasn't lying on his neck. He fell asleep with a foreboding feeling in his stomach, and all he wanted was for the morning to come so that he, and Misty, and Brock could all leave and move on. And forget about the unexplainable events of the day, as well as the fact that they would no longer be unexplainable if Ash had let Samuel finish. For now, he just wanted to sleep, and to forget.

But the entire party could not do that. Long after Ash, Brock, Pikachu, and her Togepi had drifted off into slumber, Misty sat awake, her eyes staring up at the thatched ceiling. The sounds of the calm night and the steady breathing of her companions could not soothe her, nor the unsettled feeling in her heart and stomach that told her that something, something was wrong. That something tore at her, her desire to know what was happening and her innate curiosity getting the best of her, until finally she threw off her sleeping bag and stood up, carefully weaving between the sleeping bags, making sure to not step on Ash's wayward arm or Brock's foot, or, most dangerous of all, Pikachu's tail.

To her surprise, Samuel was still awake, sitting at his small table, stirring a cup of tea with a heavy expression in his dark eyes. He looked like a man who knew too much, and Misty hesitated in taking on that knowledge for her own. She had too often looked like him, afraid beyond what any one person should feel, and she was leery of returning to that place. However, she couldn't simply close her eyes and pretend like Ash wanted to, though she understood why he had reacted the way she did.

She sat down next to him, and finally his tired eyes raised to her face. He looked world-weary and it was odd to think that he had seemed so intimidating before, when now he seemed older than his years and burdened by memories.

Despite this, she took a deep breath, searching his eyes with her own bright gaze, full of intent and apprehension. Softly, careful to keep her voice down lest she wake her friends, she spoke.

"Can you tell me what you know?"

* * *

This chapter went a little different than I had originally planned it, but I think in the long run it'll make it more interesting for you all. Yes, you ALL, because I know there's more than one of you out there! Again, if you could just drop a quick review, it'd be very appreciated. Hope you enjoyed Chapter 2!


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Ash was jerked abruptly from what had been a peaceful slumber by a terrified scream that sounded all too fam

A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed so far! I really appreciate your time and comments. As for those who haven't yet…get on it! :-P

We're up to 200 hits now, so hooray! Anyway, this chapter is shorter compared to the first two and compared to how the other ones will be. But there really wasn't anything else I could add on without making a point seem disjointed between two chapters.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Please review!

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight**

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 3**

The next morning, Ash was jerked abruptly from what had been a peaceful slumber by a terrified scream that sounded all too familiar.

_Misty_.

The word jolted through his brain before he was even completely awake, and as soon as he realized that it was, in fact, Misty who had screamed, he leapt to his feet, getting tangled in sleeping bag, tripping over the folds of material.

_Misty's in trouble…Misty needs help_. The idea scared him more than he cared to admit, though Ash knew that he always dealt better in situations where he was the one in danger, rather than his Pokemon or the people that he cared for. And if something happened to Misty while he was sleeping calmly in his sleeping bag, he didn't see how he would be able to forgive himself.

He cursed as his foot caught again, and he stumbled, about to crash to the ground in his haste to get out of his sleeping bag and hurry to Misty.

Brock caught his arm before he fell, and Ash realized that the scream had woken him, as well. He looked similarly afraid, and he practically dragged Ash from his tangled position. "Come on!" he urged, and they ran towards the front door, beyond which the scream had come from.

Pikachu leapt onto his shoulder as he tore through the remainder of the house and yanked open the front door, his heart thumping unsteadily in his chest. The attack from the Pidgies sat all too clearly in his head, and fear squeezed him like a vice…if something had happened to Misty…

Misty was cowered against the old wooden fence, her hands drawn in around her face, and with pounding feet Ash and Brock practically flew down the stairs and over to her.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Ash demanded, his body taut and fists clenched, ready for a battle if need be. He could similarly feel Pikachu's body hum with electricity from his perch on Ash's shoulder, and Ash was glad that his Pokemon had come along, as he was still wearing his pajama pants and the rest of his Pokeballs were on his belt, inside. He briefly cursed his own rashness in running into an unknown situation without grabbing his Pokemon first.

"Are you hurt?" Brock similarly demanded, quickly scanning the area, looking for the source of Misty's distress.

"They're…they're everywhere!" Misty gasped, cowering further against the fence.

"What's everywhere?" Ash exclaimed, feeling his heart rate pick up once more. When she didn't answer, he grabbed her shoulder in a panic. "Misty! What's everywhere?"

With a trembling finger, Misty pointed to a spot beyond Ash, and he quickly whipped his head around to face their assailant, his hand still on Misty's shoulder, as Pikachu leapt to the ground, posed on all fours, sparks of electricity shooting from his cheeks as he readied himself for attack.

Weedles. And Caterpies. Everywhere. All over Samuel's garden.

Ash slumped to the ground as the adrenaline drained from him, Brock collapsing next to him and even Pikachu falling onto his stomach as the three took in this supposed great threat.

"Are you crazy, screaming like that?" Brock exclaimed, voicing what Ash was similarly thinking. "We thought you were dying or something!"

"You know that I don't like bug Pokemon," Misty squealed in response, her voice high in distress. She fluttered her hands, hopping from foot to foot, obviously upset as well as disgusted. "And they're just _crawling all over the place_!"

"They're just Pokemon!" Ash snapped as his heart started beating at normal pace now. He rested his head in his hands, concentrated on breathing normally again, despite the fact that Misty had nearly given him and Brock heart attacks.

"They don't want to evolve," a deep voice sounded from the doorway, and Ash's head snapped back up to see Samuel looming in the front door, looking with serious eyes at all the Caterpies and Weedles that had gathered in his yard. "They know that as Metapods and Kakuna they will not be able to fight. They will be defenseless against attack."

"Never stopped them before," Ash pointed out. "There's always the chance of being attacked by Pokemon while they're Metapods or Kakunas."

"Yes," Samuel agreed, now fixing Ash with a steady stare that made him uncomfortable in its intensity. "But this time is different."

Misty's face now looked troubled for an entirely different reason. "Do you really think that we should…we should worry?" she asked Samuel, carefully choosing her words. What she knew now had to burden her and her alone, and she hoped that Samuel would not be careless with his words. Judging by his reluctance the previous night to tell her what she wanted to know, she guessed that he would not.

She was correct, but his message, careful as it was, was still frightening. "Perhaps," he said gravelly, in a way that most usually means 'yes'.

Misty shielded her eyes from the sun, looking up and blinking. "But the sun is so bright today," she said, but it was said in such a melancholy way that Ash had to wrinkle his brow in confusion at her tone and sudden change in conversation.

Samuel's response confused him even more. "Yes. But then, it is always brightest right before dark."

"What are you talking about?" Ash asked, bewildered. "It's morning. The sun just rose!"

"Pray to God it doesn't forever set," Samuel said grimly. He sighed, and seemed to be recalled to himself, though a weary expression marred his face. "And where are you kids off to now?"

"Pewter City," Brock responded, his tone making it clear that he too was confused with the exchange that had just taken place, and Ash felt better that for once it wasn't him and him alone that was outside of the loop, as was so often the case.

Samuel nodded, his face still tense with worry. He pointed beyond the group, out of his gate. "If you head over that hill, you should see it. It's only a couple of miles. Shouldn't take you too long."

"Yeah, thanks…" Ash said uneasily. "And thanks for letting us stay the night." He shifted his weight uneasily from foot to foot when Samuel didn't respond, instead continuing his stare out off into the distance, as though he could see all the way to Pewter City itself. "Well…" he started awkwardly, "I guess we should be on our way." He placed his hands behind his head, glancing down at his attire. "Well, after we get dressed," he added ruefully, glancing from his pajamas to Brock's.

And, true to his word, after he and Brock had changed into their normal traveling clothes and their sleeping bags had been rolled up and stuffed away, they met Misty back outside and prepared to move on to Pewter City.

"Be careful," Samuel said to them seriously in parting. "Stay together. And don't trust strangers."

The corner of Ash's mouth quirked upward—sound advice indeed from a man who was in fact, a stranger, and had housed them for the night. "We will. We'll be fine. Thanks again."

"These are dark times," Samuel told them, his voice heavy as he shook his head. "Let's all hope that we come through it."

_Dark times_? But Ash was almost afraid to ask, afraid of the answer he would receive and what he would have to do with that answer. And so he didn't ask Samuel about the dark times that he was predicting, and instead, once they had waved goodbye and left the gate and started the trek over the hill to Pewter, he muttered under his breath, "Man. What a weirdo."

"Pikachu," Pikachu nodded in agreement, his little paws gripping Ash's hat from his perch upon his head.

"He is _not_," Misty said defensively, and Ash gave her a strange look.

"Well, then he sure did a good impression of one." He bugged his eyes, waving his hands to and fro, mocking Samuel in a way that he really didn't feel. But making light of the situation made him feel better, and made his heart lighter as they continued on, and so he felt no guilt. "Ooooh, dark times! Ooooh, Caterpies are on attack mode! Ooooh!"

"You don't know what you're talking about," she snapped in response, and she sounded surprisingly annoyed with him. Eyes wide in surprise, he looked at her in bewilderment.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I just don't think you should make fun of him. That's all," she said quietly, in a way that made him certain that that was not, in fact, all. She had hunched her shoulders a bit in the way that always meant that she was uncomfortable or unhappy, and Ash frowned in confusion. They had just met Samuel, obviously there was no way that Misty could consider him a close and personal friend. Nor could she say with any certain knowledge that he wasn't the crazy loon that Ash had pegged him for. So the reason for her frustration with him remained quite a mystery to him, and he decided to, for the moment, stop his mocking and instead concentrate on making it to Pewter City.

It was a relief not to be traveling through the woods any longer, and to have a clear view of the path in front of them. And when they reached the top of the hill that Samuel had pointed out, Pewter City spread out in front of them, still a few miles away but there, waiting for them.

Brock sighed, content. "It will be good to get home and see my brothers and sisters," he admitted, shielding his eyes from the bright glow of the sunlight.

"Mmhmm," Misty agreed, and for a moment Ash felt guilty for pouting over having to leave Pallet Town so quickly. Misty and Brock had been with him for so long that sometimes he forgot that they, too, had family that they missed and would most likely like to see. Even Misty was fond of her sisters, despite their rocky relationship over the years. It was as important for them to go home as it was for Ash.

"Well, we might as well stop here for lunch," Brock pointed out. "Then we can hike down to Pewter."

"Sounds good," Misty agreed, placing Togepi down on the ground to toddle around under Pikachu's watchful eye while Brock started unloading the lunches he had packed for them.

"Oh, sure, when Brock wants to stop for lunch it's fine," Ash grumbled, still a bit sore about the panic attack that Misty had caused him early this morning. But his stomach gave a grumble, and Ash was never one to say no to food, especially when Brock had prepared it, so he plopped down on the grass, tossing his pack aside and eagerly accepting the sandwich that Brock held out to him.

"Here's to a hopefully calm remainder of our trip," Brock said, raising his water jug in a mock salute to Ash and Misty before taking a swig from it.

Misty smiled faintly. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't be the good old days if we didn't run into some kind of trouble." Her voice sounded distracted, far-away, and her eyes had glazed over slightly as she looked down the hill at Pewter City. "Hopefully the trouble won't be too bad this time."

"Hopefully that run-in with the Pidgies _was _the trouble," Brock corrected before taking a big bite from his own sandwich.

A few feet away, Togepi wandered playfully to the edge of the hill, peering down at the span of grass and flowers that rolled steeply downward and led to the flat path before Pewter City. "Toge, Toge…" it chirped, and then, as babies often do, it seemed to lose its balance and wobbled from one foot to another, waving its tiny arms in an effort to steady itself.

Ever vigilant, Pikachu saw Togepi's loss of balance and hurried over to where it stood at the edge of the hill. Worried, the yellow mouse reached out frantically for the baby Pokemon, to steady it and keep it from tumbling downwards. And as it always seemed to happen, as Pikachu approached Togepi easily regained its balance and toddled back towards Misty, its interest in what lay beyond the hill forgotten.

Pikachu, however, in his zeal, overshot and could not steady himself in time to stop the fate that he had just tried to save Togepi from. Flailing his arms frantically, he tumbled, head over feet, down the hill, coming to land in a patch of wild dandelions, and he lay on his back for a moment, as though absorbing the fact that his attempts to be a good babysitter had backfired on him once more.

But then his ears perked up as he heard a rustling a few feet away. "Pi?" he questioned, sitting up and glancing, blinking, towards a patch of overgrown weeds where the rustling had come from.

"What is it, Pikachu?" Ash asked, his attention caught as Pikachu hopped to his feet, wandering over to the weed patch, hesitant though his steps were.

"Pika!" he exclaimed in shock, jumping back a couple of feet as a creature emerged, sleek and graceful as a cat with fur as black as midnight. The creature's red eyes fixed on Pikachu menacingly, and its long ears, black as the rest of it save for the rings of yellow that circled them, matching the yellow markings on its forehead, legs, and around its tail, twitched in response to Pikachu's cry.

It seemed to shimmer with the wind, and its paws didn't seem to quite touch the ground as it slunk from the weeds, twitching its tail in distaste. There was something ethereal, almost unreal, about it and the way it moved.

"Whoa!" Ash cried, his earlier troubles forgotten as a familiar excitement whipped up inside of him. He leapt to his feet, his sandwich forgotten, because the only thing he liked more than food was Pokemon. "What is that?"

He drew his trusty Pokedex from his pocket, pointing it at the creature. "No Pokemon found," the voice droned mechanically, and Ash frowned in confusion.

"Huh? But…that's definitely a Pokemon!" Ash exclaimed, pointing the Pokedex again at the emerged Pokemon. But he simply received the same message as he had before—that there was no Pokemon found.

He shook the Pokedex, annoyed. "Must be busted," he scowled. "I'll have Professor Oak take a look at it when we go back to Pallet Town." He brightened. "But I can still capture it for now!" He pointed a finger at the Pokemon. "Pikachu, go!"

"Pika!" Pikachu leapt on the offense, jumping forward so that he was on all fours, glaring at the other Pokemon.

"Thunderbolt, now!"

"Pi…ka…CHU!"

The powerful bolt shot from the electric mouse, bound for the mysterious Pokemon, but the Pokemon merely turned, twitching its tail in distaste, paying no attention to the attack. And the bolt went right through it, seemingly to no effect.

"Huh?" Ash exclaimed, as Pikachu stared with a rather similar expression of shock on his face. "What happened?"

"It wasn't effected at all," Brock said wonderingly.

"Pikachu, Quick Attack!" Ash ordered in response, and Pikachu nodded, racing towards the creature. But there seemed to be nothing to attack as Pikachu crashed into the weeds, not hitting anything on the way.

"Pi?" Pikachu shook out the surprise of finding himself tumbling into the weeds and not crashing into the other Pokemon, and he looked over at it, confused. It gave him a cold stare back, and Pikachu narrowed his eyes, electric sparks flying from his cheeks.

"Pikachu, you missed it!" Ash exclaimed.

"Pikachu didn't miss it…" Misty murmured, her head tilted as she looked at the battle taking place. "He just…went right through it."

Ash scratched the back of his head. "Think it's a ghost Pokemon?"

"But then why didn't Pikachu's Thunderbolt effect it either?" Brock mused. "Maybe we should just leave it alone, Ash. Something weird is going on with that Pokemon."

"But I've never _seen _one of them before!" Ash whined, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out an empty Pokeball. "I can at least see if I can capture it."

"But you didn't even weaken it!" Misty pointed out. "You _couldn't _weaken it! Pikachu's attacks had no effect!"

"Hey, trying never hurt anyone," Ash countered, and he raised the ball. "Pokeball, go!"

But before he could release the Pokeball from his hand, a very familiar and very unwelcome sound broke up from a few feet away.

"Now…we…we have…you…" someone panted, and Ash whipped around to see a very winded Team Rocket. Jessie and James leaned against one another, desperately trying to catch their breaths.

Meowth was collapsed on the ground in front of them. "They would be on top of this huge hill," he gasped, resting a paw on his stomach.

"I'm so out of shape," James moaned. "Jessie, is my butt getting big?"

"Later," Jessie snapped in response. "For now, we have to make a good showing." With effort, they dragged themselves back into a respectable standing position, crossing their arms menacingly.

"Prepare for trouble!"

"And make it double!"

"To protect the world—"

"Do you _mind_?" Ash snapped, frustrated. "I'm a little busy here right now!"

"Why, you little brat," Jessie seethed, propping her hands on her hips. "You'll listen to the rest of our motto, and you'll _like _it! And then you'll cower in fear, just like you're supposed to!"

"I'm trying to catch a Pokemon!" Ash exclaimed, and immediately regretted it when he saw the faces of the three Team Rocket members light up.

"A Pokemon?" James squealed with excitement. "Where? We'll capture it ourselves!"

"Hey," Meowth interrupted. "Why should we waste our time catching it? We'll let this twerp do it, then steal it from him!"

"I like that plan better!" James agreed, clasping his hands together. "And we can get Pikachu while we're at it!"

"In your dreams!" Ash yelled, but he turned back to the mysterious Pokemon, suddenly afraid that it would dart away in the confusion. "Go, Pokeball!" he called, tossing the Pokeball at the Pokemon, hoping that he would have a streak of good luck for once and he would be able to capture this Pokemon that seemed unable to be attacked.

The Pokeball went right through the Pokemon, and Ash's eyes bugged in shock. "What?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Even if it's a ghost Pokemon, the ball should have caught it!"

The Pokemon gave Ash a final disdainful look before flicking its tail and leaping down the hill, heading towards the line of trees that separated the meadow from Viridian Forest, its paws seeming to hover an inch or less from the ground, which only added to the strange situation.

"Hey! Wait!" Ash exclaimed, and he tore off after the Pokemon, his curiosity and his desire to be able to capture this strange creature overtaking what little common sense he usually used.

"Come on!" Jessie snapped, slapping James and Meowth upside their heads. "We can't let him get it! After him!"

And so Team Rocket ran off after Ash, down the steep hill to Pewter City. Ash was barely aware of their presence a few feet behind him, so focused was he on his goal and on the Pokemon that was outrunning him and therefore widening the gap between them the closer and closer it got to the edge of the forest.

He became aware of them, however, when his foot caught on a rock sticking out of the grass, and he started tumbling head over feet, much like Pikachu had before him. He tumbled a few feet, coming to a stop near the middle of the hill, grass-stained and slightly scraped from his spill. Team Rocket, moving quickly as to be able to catch up with him, were unable to stop once they noticed that Ash was no longer running and had, in fact, fallen.

He cried out in surprise as they tripped over him, and began rolling along the hill, faster and harder than he had. Once his surprise had worn off, he watched them roll off into the distance with the faint cry, "Looks like Team Rocket's rolling off again!"

"You know, I forgot just how stupid they truly were," Brock said to Misty wonderingly as the two tiredly gathered up their things from the hilltop in order to make their way down to where Ash now sat in a heap.

"Pikachu," Pikachu agreed, hopping up onto Brock's shoulder as they carefully made their way down to their friend.

"Are you okay?" Brock asked a bewildered looking Ash.

"Yeah, I'm fine…" Ash said, but his words didn't match the upset expression on his face. "The Pokemon is gone, though!" He clambered to his feet, kicking the grass in annoyance. "This stinks." Pikachu leapt from Brock's shoulder back onto his trainer's, landing heavily on Ash's hat so that the brim fell over his eyes. He didn't bother fixing it. It fit his mood—sulky.

"It's probably for the best," Misty said solemnly. "There was something strange about that Pokemon."

"Yeah, yeah…" Ash mumbled grumpily. He didn't like admitting defeat, and especially didn't like admitting that the defeat might have been for the best. "At least Team Rocket's gone. And we didn't even have to listen to the whole stupid motto."

"And look, we're not far outside of Pewter now," Brock pointed out, pointing off to the city that was still a few miles off, but closer than it had been before Ash's spill down the hill. He looked happy, Ash thought, and his friend's happiness at being so close to home was contagious enough that even if he wasn't happy as well, he didn't feel quite as annoyed at losing the Pokemon.

"Yeah…" Ash glanced over at the forest, as though hoping to see one final glimpse of the Pokemon. But he had no such luck, and he decided to try and put it out of his mind for the time being. "Guess we should get going, then.

* * *

I know most of you probably know/knew what the 'mysterious Pokemon' was. But since this is pre-Johto, I don't believe Umbreon (which was the Pokemon if by chance you didn't know) had been encountered by Ash yet, so he wouldn't know what Pokemon it was.

Anyway, please leave a line and I hope to have the next chapter in the near future! Thanks to everyone who's reading!


	4. Chapter 4

The Pewter City Gym seemed different to Ash, and as their footsteps echoed in the entrance way, bouncing off of the high ceili

A/N: Sorry that this chapter was awhile coming. Finals and all that. But now that I'm home, I took the opportunity to finally finish up this chapter. It's the longest one so far.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! I really appreciate and value your feedback. It always makes me happy to see that 'Review Alert' in my email inbox. I'm glad that you're enjoying the fic so far!

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

* * *

Five Days of Midnight

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 4**

The Pewter City Gym seemed different to Ash, and as their footsteps echoed in the entrance way, bouncing off of the high ceilings and concrete floor, he stopped for a moment to take in the gym in its entirety, to see what had changed.

No, he realized a moment later, the gym hadn't changed, it was he who had changed. The feeling of anticipation, the butterflies that had fluttered in his stomach, the sound of his heart pounding unsteadily in his ears, his palms slick with sweat as he had stood in the entrance and realized that he was taking the very first step on his journey towards becoming a Pokemon Master…those feelings were gone. He had now seen so many battles, so many trials, that the Pewter City Gym did not hold the level of otherworldliness that it once had, a world that he had so desperately wanted to join.

Brock wasn't bothering to hide the look of contentment that spread across his face the moment that they stepped into the gym, and Ash smiled at the goofy grin that spread across his friend's face. Calm, steady Brock was reacting just as he did whenever a pretty girl passed his path.

"Dad! We have challengers!" a voice yelled out, and there were footsteps pounding into the gym. A younger boy stood in the doorway, sharing Brock's dark eyes and hair and tanned skin. His face lit up with pleased surprise when he saw the group. "Brock!"

"Forrest!"

Brock wrapped his brother in a tight hug, resting his chin on the top of his head. "I've missed you guys," he said honestly. Though he didn't regret joining Ash and Misty—in fact, it had brought about some of the best times of his life—he couldn't help but miss the siblings that he had practically raised.

"Brock!" Now it was Flint, Brock's father who also startlingly resembled him, that entered the gym, and he looked just as surprised as his young son had at seeing the eldest and former gym leader return to Pewter City. "Welcome home!" He clapped a fatherly hand down on his son's shoulder.

"Thanks," Brock said honestly, releasing Forrest. "It's good to be home." He looked around. "Where are the others?"

Flint chuckled. "Back at the house. Well, most of them anyway." He smiled a bit bittersweetly. "Ariana and Helios left. Got their starter Pokemon and are off in training now. But the others are still at home." He ruffled Forrest's hair playfully. "And this one's helping me with the gym. He'll take over someday as leader."

"Oh, you think so?" Brock teased, and Ash smiled. Sometimes he wished that he had siblings, especially while he was growing up. It was nice to see the relationship that Brock had with his younger brother. The closest thing Ash had had was Gary, and Gary was more likely to push him in a mud puddle than treat him with any sort of brotherly friendship.

"Yeah," Forrest replied, playfully sticking his tongue out at Brock. "You got your chance. It's gonna be mine in a couple of years. Dad said so."

"You'll be a great gym leader someday," Brock assured him, dropping his arm casually around Forrest's shoulders, slinging his bag onto his other shoulder. "Come on. Let's head back to the house. We've been walking for awhile."

"Will you cook?" Forrest asked, taking quick steps to keep up with Brock's longer stride. "Dad's lousy."

"I heard that," Flint called, following his sons from the gym.

Ash remained behind for a moment, continuing to look around the gym. Pitting a Pikachu against an Onix…not his smartest move, he could admit now in hindsight. But if any Pikachu could have done it, it would have been his.

It had seemed much bigger the first time around. Then again, the first time around, Brock had seemed intimidating. Everything about a gym battle had been intimidating.

"It was a long time ago, huh?" a voice from behind him said, and Ash turned to see that Misty was still waiting in the entrance. He smiled at the sight of her, because it was appropriate—in every important moment of his life in the last five years, Misty had been there, whether front and center in the memory or just lingering on the edges, like she was doing at this very moment.

"Yeah," Ash agreed. "Hard to believe that we barely knew each other then. And we didn't know Brock at all."

"And you were trying to power up Pikachu to take on an Onix," Misty reminded him, a slight smirk tugging on the corners of her lips.

Ash laughed, despite himself. "Yeah. Probably not my best idea." He smiled at Pikachu at his feet. "But you did a great job, Pikachu."

"Chaaa…" Pikachu sighed in agreement, looking at the gym as though he, too, were remembering the first battles that had taken place here so long ago.

He wished that he could go back and tell the boy who had come into the gym of the challenges that he would face in the years to come. "It's been a long time," he repeated, shaking his head.

"But it's been a good time, for the most part," Misty pointed out, and Pikachu nodded in agreement, smiling up at his trainer. "Come on, Ash. Brock's making dinner and he has seven brothers and sisters still at home who haven't had his cooking in five years. If you don't hurry, there won't be any left for you."

"Oh, man!" Ash exclaimed, the idea of entering Brock's house to find all the food gone actually causing him a certain amount of distress. "Come on, Pikachu!" Pikachu leapt up onto Ash's shoulder as he ran past Misty to the door, grabbing her arm on the way. "Come on! I'm hungry!"

"Of course you are," Misty muttered, rolling her eyes as she struggled to keep her balance as Ash dragged her out of the Pewter City Gym.

* * *

Ash discovered that he liked the feeling of sitting around a big table with a big family for dinner. Sure, maybe some of Brock's siblings were squabbling, and there wasn't enough for him to have seconds of the delicious food that Brock had prepared, but there was a feeling of festivity, almost as though it were a holiday, as though the meal were a party. It was a feeling that he had never had growing up, sharing meals with his mother and sometimes older relatives who he barely knew and who pinched his cheeks and called him 'adorably scruffy', as though he were a puppy and not a person.

The room was filled the chatter and laughter and yes, some yelling, but it was how Ash liked it. He liked busy, he liked commotion and action. Peace and quiet bored him.

"So what brings you three back to Pewter?" Flint asked. He was seated at the head of the table, with Ash and Misty to his right and Brock to his left. Pikachu was sitting on Ash's lap to save space, and was helping himself from his master's plate, while Misty fed Togepi small morsels that she had broken off.

"We're just taking a rest after being out in the Orange Islands for so long," Misty said, looking up from her task. "And Brock met back up with us in Pallet Town, because he had to make a delivery to Professor Oak there. So we decided to come to Pewter and then over to Cerulean."

"And you're from Cerulean?" Flint asked Misty politely. "I think Brock mentioned that."

"Misty and her sisters run the Cerulean Gym," Brock told his father, and Flint grinned at Ash.

"You seem to have a talent for collecting the gym leaders as well as their badges," he teased good-naturedly.

Misty haughtily stuck her nose in the air. "Ash wrecked my bike. I'm waiting for him to pay me back for a new one."

Ash rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Sure. That's the _only _reason you've followed me for _five years_. You know, Misty, in five years you could have collected enough money from losing trainers at the Cerulean Gym to buy yourself _two _bikes." He grinned at her, satisfied with his logic. Once in a while he seemed to pull something good out.

Misty stuck her tongue out at him, unable to argue with the truth of his statement, and Ash's grin widened as it always did when he emerged the victor in one of their battles. He tossed in, "Besides, I didn't ruin your bike, Pikachu did!"

"Pika!" Pikachu exclaimed in protest.

"Luckily Pikachu is much cuter than you are," Misty cooed, scratching Pikachu's head with affection. He cooed happily at the attention, his ears sloping down near his cheeks to give Misty better access.

"You would be so bored without me," Ash predicted, folding his arms in smug satisfaction.

"Ha! You wish," Misty instinctively replied, but Ash knew that in reality, he was in no danger of Misty's leaving, even if he happened to replace her bike the next day. Not that he could, even if he wanted to. Any money he made from battles ended up being shelled right back out on food, shelter, or supplies for future battles.

"Well, in any case, I'm glad that you were able to make the trip," Flint intervened, showing where Brock had inherited his talents for interrupting a brewing argument between Ash and Misty. "Misty can stay in your room, Brock."

"She can?" Brock said ironically. "Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"You and Ash can camp out in the living room," Flint said. "Be a gentleman."

Misty grinned, kicking Brock's shin lightly under the table. "Yeah, Brock. Be a gentleman."

Brock grumbled, but didn't attempt to argue, and Misty smiled smugly, leaning back in her chair, contented, as Togepi chirped in her lap.

After dinner, Ash and Brock released their Pokemon in the gym, allowing them time out of their Pokeballs to stretch and play, as they were delighted by the attentions of Brock's younger siblings. The girls in particular seemed drawn to Pikachu, having only contact with the less cuddly rock and ground Pokemon that their brothers trained, and Pikachu returned their attention and affection with enthusiasm. Misty's Pokemon remained their Pokeballs, with the exception of Staryu, as there certainly was not any water to be found in this particular gym. Togepi, however, seemed to be receiving just as much fuss as Pikachu, and the friendly Pokemon chirped happily as it was passed from one intrigued child to the next.

Ash smiled as he watched their Pokemon frolic. "See? No unusual behavior there," he pointed out to Misty and Brock. "They seem anything but aggressive to me."

"No, that mostly seems to be affecting the wild Pokemon in the area," Flint interjected, and the three turned to him in surprise.

"You've noticed something weird, too, Dad?" Brock asked, and part of Ash wanted to clamp his hands over his ears so that he wouldn't have to hear anymore of the conversation. But his curiosity got the better of him in this situation, and he instead waited to hear Flint's response.

Flint nodded gravely in response. "Yes, I have." He glanced out the entranceway, and pointed. "But it might just be because of the eclipse."

"The eclipse?" Misty questioned.

He nodded once more. "We're due for a solar eclipse tomorrow."

"Pokemon are so in tune with nature," Brock mused. "That might be the cause of their strange behavior."

"See! Nothing to worry about!" Ash exclaimed, feeling relief rush through him at this information. "It's just some stupid eclipse that's behind all the weird things going on!"

Misty didn't look as convinced. "I guess so…" she said reluctantly, watching the Pokemon play.

"C'mon, Misty, it's no big deal," he insisted, and his face brightened. "I'll bet there'll be a lot of Pokemon roaming around!"

Misty rolled her eyes at his usual train of thought, but it didn't bother Ash. Rather, he was glad to see the worried expression wiped from her face, even if it was replaced by mild annoyance.

"It's going to be great," he crowed, standing in the entrance to the gym and looking up at the moon approaching the sun. "It'll be cool."

"If you say so, Ash," Misty murmured, her eyes focused on Togepi darting between the Pokemon much larger than it was. "If you say so."

* * *

For the second night in a row, Ash Ketchum was pulled roughly, unpleasantly, suddenly from his dreams by a sudden sound. It was something that was becoming a regular occurrence, and one that he wasn't very pleased with at all.

For a moment he sat there in his sleeping bag, unsure what had woken him up. This time, it wasn't Misty's shrieks of terror, and now the night seemed to be silent. He wondered if he had imagined it all—if he had had a nightmare, but then Pikachu leapt into his lap, his eyes wide with shock as he pointed towards the door. "Pika, pika!" he exclaimed frantically.

"What was that?" Brock's voice sounded from the darkness next to him, where they were camped out in his living room. "What's going on?" Brock was awake, and that made Ash reconsider whether or not it had been his imagination. If it had been, surely Brock would still be fast asleep?

"I don't know," Ash replied, bewildered. "Is something going on?"

He winced as suddenly the house was flooded with light, and was blinded for a moment by the blazing light. It's an attack, he thought wildly, and he felt around for his bag, trying to reach for his Pokeballs.

"Brock! Brock! Did you hear the noise?"

"Dad, what's going on?"

"It was so loud!"

Brock's siblings tumbled into the room, climbing into their brother's lap, fretting to themselves, the smallest girl clinging onto a Pikachu doll, while Flint stumbled in as well, rubbing his eyes with exhaustion.

"Where's Misty?" Ash asked instinctively, noticing the missing party immediately.

"Right here," Misty replied as she slumped into the room, her hair a cloud of red around her face as she hugged a terrified Togepi. She rubbed her eyes tiredly with her spare hand, standing there in her blue nightgown and bare feet. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Ash repeated, and he looked towards Flint for an explanation.

Flint, however, looked just as confused at the sudden turn of events as the rest of the group. "I just heard a loud sound from the window," he said, scratching the back of his head with a large yawn. "I hope there wasn't an accident."

"I guess we should go check…" Brock suggested hesitantly. He stood up unsteadily, reaching for his shoes, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. Ash scrambled to his feet after him, reaching for his jacket and pulling it on over his t-shirt against the cool of the night that he expected once he stepped outside.

Flint sighed. "Guess so. Forrest," he addressed his second oldest son, "watch your brothers and sisters while we go see what's going on out front."

But nothing could have prepared Ash for what he saw when they did step outside to investigate. He stood there, still half-asleep, his hair a mess and Pikachu practically dozing on his shoulder, Misty next to him still in her bare feet and nightgown and Brock on her other side, Flint standing a few feet in front of them, and Ash felt as though all the sleepiness and exhaustion of the day had been knocked out of him. His curiosity was replaced by a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he could practically feel Brock stiffen even with Misty between them.

Misty kept her arm around Togepi but raised her other hand to her mouth in shock, speechless, and Ash could only stare with his mouth open. Brock took a step towards his father, but seemed to halt after that first step, as though he could not bring himself to take another step towards the rubble, the pile of stone and ash and clouds of smoke that had once, had just been, Pewter City Gym.

It had once been Pewter City Gym, but now it was gone, a haze of dirt hanging in the air like an omen around the destroyed remains.

And suddenly, Brock was running towards the ruin, and he fled past his father, who took off hot on his heels. The Slates, father and son, ran towards their destroyed gym as though it would help, as though that would rebuild it, or at least make them understand.

"Brock! Wait!" Misty cried, finding her voice, and she ran down the stairs and hurried after them, and Ash finally felt as though he would be able to move his legs if he tried, and he took after Misty at a jog, catching up with her easily as she worked to avoid stones and sticks.

"Wait," he said, catching Misty's arm, stopping her in her tracks. "Give them a moment. Plus, you're not wearing any shoes." He glanced down at Misty's bare feet. "There's probably a lot of broken glass and a lot of stones."

Her eyes were wide with shock as she looked at Ash, and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. He felt as though she were looking to him for answers, and answers were one thing that he couldn't give her. As though she noticed the hopelessness in his eyes, she shifted her gaze to the rubble of the gym, where Brock and his father were now standing, wandering from one end to the other as though searching for an answer among the glass and concrete.

And suddenly, it occurred to him, and he could have smacked himself for how long it took him to realize what had happened. But then, for Ash, it wasn't unusual for him to overlook the obvious answer and instead search for something more obscure, though it was something he was improving with over time. But now that the answer had come to him like a beacon of light shining down, he growled it loud enough for Misty and Pikachu, still on his shoulder, to both hear.

"Team Rocket."

"Pikachu!" Pikachu growled in response, in obvious agreement with Ash's prediction.

Misty, however, looked less certain, her eyes still wide on Ash's face. "Do you really think so?"

Ash stared back at her, bewildered at her response. "Who else could it be?" he asked. "They're _always _behind anything bad that happens!" He clenched his fists in anger as he looked over at the leaders of the former Pewter City Gym. "This is probably payback for what happened in Viridian. That gym was destroyed, so now they're looking to take over another gym." Brock looked so forlorn, standing amongst what had once been his pride, and Ash felt the ball of anger in the pit of his stomach grow a little stronger, a little harder. "They've gone too far this time, though."

Misty turned her head to follow Ash's gaze, her hair blowing gently in the calm night breeze that belied the events that had happened. "But if it was Team Rocket, where are they now?" she asked quietly, as though she didn't particularly want the answer. "Since when are the ones to disappear after attacking?" A faint smile played across her lips, but there was no joy behind it. "Usually we'd be hearing their stupid motto right now if it was Team Rocket."

Ash wrinkled his brow. "But it has to be Team Rocket," he insisted. "Who else would it be?" Misty expression became more troubled, but she didn't respond to his question, which Ash took as a victory. "I mean, maybe it isn't Jessie and James. I doubt they would have been able to…you know…actually do it." He looked at the remains of the gym, a forlorn expression in his dark eyes. "But I still think it was Team Rocket. Someone from Team Rocket. Maybe it's even the leader getting revenge for destroying Viridian City Gym."

"Maybe…" Misty replied, uncertainly. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her arms against the now cool air, and Ash wished he had thought to grab his jacket before running out of the house. "I wish I knew what to say to them," she added softly, her eyes on Brock and Flint, now trudging back towards them, their heads low and their hands stuffed in their pockets, weighed down by heavy thoughts.

"It's gone," Brock said numbly as he came back to Misty and Ash. "The entire gym. It's just…gone."

"Did you…" Ash cleared his throat, uncertain whether he should be asking this question or not. "Did you see anything over there?"

Brock shook his head. "Nothing," he replied, his voice still oddly calm and detached. "There's…nothing."

Flint came up behind his son, his own face drawn with worry, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's just the building," he said firmly, as though he were trying to convince not only the three trainers but himself, as well. "It's just four walls that we can build again. We'll get the funds from the city. The important thing is no one was hurt."

His grip tightened as he saw the reluctant expression on Brock's face. "Really," he stressed. "It's going to be fine. We'll have it up again in no time."

"I can't believe it's gone…" Misty whispered, so quietly that only Ash heard her. He swallowed hard; he, too, was having difficulty accepting what had happened. The night seemed to quiet now, peaceful and tranquil, and it was as if the entire event, the earth-shaking crash that had awoken them and the devastation that now lay in front of them, had all been a terrible dream.

"Come on," Flint said quietly, putting a heavy arm around his son's shoulders. "Let's go get your brothers and sisters back to bed."

"Yeah…" Brock replied, distracted, and Ash knew that while he was trying to convince himself that all that had been lost was a bunch of stones and concrete, he was also coming to terms with the fact that really, it had been so much more. It had been a second home.

Misty and Ash filed behind the two Slates, like a funeral procession, back into the house where they had to face the wide eyes of Brock's younger siblings, looking up at them for answers and explanations.

Ash saw Brock hesitate, his eyes landing on Forrest as the words got caught in his throat. There was no delicate way to put what had happened—anything gently said would have to be a full-out lie.

"What's wrong?" Forrest spoke for the rest of the young ones, searching first Brock's face, then his father's, and finally looking at Ash and Misty as though looking for some reassurance from the disappointment on the faces of his family. "What happened? Did you find out what that noise was?"

"It was the gym, Forrest," Flint said gently, coming forward to put his arm around Forrest's shoulders. "It's…well…it's gone." He squeezed his son's shoulders hard, as though trying to fortify him against the horrible words that were now spoken out loud.

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" Forrest asked in disbelief. "Brock?"

Brock didn't respond, and Forrest's mouth dropped open. "It's…it's really _gone_?" he asked, with the air of one who had seen a dream within reach and then snatched away.

"For now," Flint firmly added. "Tomorrow I'll go into town to petition the city to give us the funds to rebuild. I'm sure it'll be granted by the League, at the very least. This is just a temporary problem." He grinned. "Besides, no gym doesn't mean we won't still battle trainers. We just won't have all the extra frills for awhile."

Forrest looked a bit appeased as his father's logic, but Brock still looked grim.

"But for now, it is way past all of your bedtimes," Flint changed the subject briskly. "Come on. To bed!"

Ash, Misty, and Brock watched as Flint shuffled his rather reluctant younger children back towards the stairs, back towards bed. The room suddenly felt too quiet again, as the three trainers tried to comprehend how things could have turned so quickly, and so unexpectedly.

Pikachu hopped down from Ash's shoulder, curling up next to his pillow on the ground. However, his eyes remained open and he looked curiously up at the three, waiting for them to make their next move.

"I guess we should go to sleep, too," Misty said softly. Togepi, safely in her arms, had already fallen back asleep. The one not affected by the events of the night.

"Yeah, I guess," Ash said uncertainly. "You going to be okay upstairs?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Misty replied, looking towards the staircase as though she'd rather not climb them back to Brock's bedroom. "Well. Good night?"

He almost laughed at this, because there was nothing so far this night that insinuated that it was even remotely close to a 'good night'. But he didn't comment on it, and instead climbed into his sleeping bag, a silent and still forlorn Brock climbing in next to him, Pikachu near his head, the sounds of Misty's retreating footsteps sounding in the background as she climbed the stairs.

Sleep, however, remained as elusive to Ash Ketchum as that mysterious Pokemon had been, earlier in the day which had seemed so long ago now. He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but his mind raced and wouldn't allow him a moment's rest.

Why would Team Rocket want to destroy the Pewter City Gym? He was fairly sure now that it couldn't have been Jessie, James, and Meowth—there was no way that it could have gone so smoothly, that the destruction could have been so complete, if it had been them. Those three would have managed to botch it somehow. Plus, they had just seen them earlier in that day and Ash was sure that they would have thrown out some sort of hint of what was to come if they were involved. But Team Rocket was an entire organization, and as frightening as it was, there were many, many members that they hadn't come into contact with yet. It could have been any of them. Or all of them.

Was it revenge for the destruction of Viridian City Gym? It could be, although in Ash's opinion it would have made more sense if they had instead tried to take over Pewter City Gym. After all, they were still without a gym, and their situation wasn't any improved. Then again, maybe he was being foolish in trying to figure out reason for Team Rocket's actions. They simply were cruel and awful for the sake of being cruel and awful. The fact that they were hurting people by destroying the gym would be enough of a reason for them to go ahead.

What would they do now? Was it over? Was that the end of their revenge? If Flint was able to rebuild the gym, would they destroy it again? Or would they move on to the next gym, seeking to ruin the entire Kanto League?

The next gym was Cerulean, and Ash's thoughts wandered to Misty. Misty and her sisters, the leaders of the Cerulean City Gym. A pang of worry shot through him at the idea of the gym destroyed. Misty would be devastated to lose her gym, and despite the fact that she constantly argued with them, she would be destroyed if something happened to her sisters. And an upset Misty was the worst thing in the world—he didn't know what to do in response to her. He was used to Misty either being happy or being angry at him, and he knew how to get along with her and he certainly knew how to fight with her, but when she was upset all he wanted to do was make her feel better so that she would either smile or yell at him again. But he had never been a good one with words, and he usually ended up just saying the wrong thing and making it worse.

Which was probably the reason he wasn't trying to initiate a conversation with Brock, next to him in the darkness. Ash shifted his head, trying to tell if Brock was sleeping or not. The older boy's back was to him, and so he couldn't be sure either way, and staying quiet seemed to be the best decision in any case.

They would have to head off to Cerulean as soon as possible, to try and head off Team Rocket if they were, in fact, trying to destroy multiple gyms. They would have to beat them to the next city, and it was with this renewed resolve that Ash closed his eyes, hoping for sleep.

But something still nagged him. _This doesn't seem like their style_, Misty had said. And, well, maybe it didn't. Team Rocket was the type to stay around and brag about the misdeeds they had committed.

But it had to be Team Rocket. Nothing else made sense.

"Hey, Ash?" He opened his eyes again, tilting his head back to see who had softly spoken, despite the fact that he knew even before laying eyes on her upside-down, that it had been Misty, clutching her sleeping bag, her bare feet near his head.

"Hey," he replied heavily. "Can't sleep either?"

"That makes three of us," Brock's steady voice sounded, quiet and still thoughtful and heavy with disappointment, and answering Ash's internal question as to whether or not he had been sleeping.

Ash shifted over so that Misty could fit her sleeping bag between them, and she gratefully took the space and crawled in. Despite the fact that the floor was nowhere near as comfortable as Brock's bed, she had no desire to be alone right now, and therefore right there, Ash on her right and Brock on her left, Pikachu near her head and Togepi at her side, was the most comfortable, and comforting, place she could imagine being.

Similar thoughts ran through Ash's head as the group lay together. It was a feeling of completeness, as though as long as he had Misty, and Brock, and Pikachu, everything would be okay in the end. No matter what was going on, they would see it through together. They always had.

"It's good to be together again," he voiced his thoughts, and heard a shift as both Misty and Brock turned their heads to him.

"Don't get me wrong," he added hastily. "I like Tracey a lot. He's great. But…it hasn't been the same. It's not the same unless it's…_us_."

He heard Brock chuckle a bit, and he felt a rush of achievement that he had managed to say something at least somewhat correct. Brock hadn't laughed since dinner, and now he was chuckling.

"Yeah," Brock said ruefully, good nature creeping back into his voice. The feeling of comfort, of safety, of a united front, of being together, was contagious. "I missed you two knuckleheads, too."

"Pikachu!" Pikachu protested.

"You, too, Pikachu," Brock assured the Pokemon. He let out a long breath. "I guess Dad's right. We can rebuild."

"Of course you can," Misty was quick to reply. "Everything will be fine."

Ash didn't believe that everything would be okay, and he was fairly sure that Brock wouldn't believe it, as well, but it seemed to soothe Brock for the time being, as he rolled back over onto his side and soon his breathing had evened out to a pace where Ash thought that this time, he really might be sleeping.

He wasn't so lucky, and nor, did it seem, was Misty. "Ash?" she questioned, her voice a soft whisper, aware of the fact that Brock was sleeping right next to her.

"Yeah?" he responded, his voice equally as quiet.

He heard Misty turn her head to face him, but in the darkness he couldn't see her face. All he could hear was her quiet breathing, and for some reason, he felt his heart start thumping oddly as he watched her shadowy outline, waiting for her to continue.

"Samuel told me something pretty scary the night we stayed with him," she whispered, and the thumping in his heart stopped, and he rolled his eyes, aware that she wouldn't be able to see it.

"Misty, did you make him tell you that stupid legend?" She didn't respond, which he took for affirmation. "Misty, he's some crazy old man who lives in the middle of the woods. He looks for signs of destruction in the behavior of Caterpies and Weedles!"

"But Ash…"

He cut her off. "There's nothing wrong. Everything's going to be fine. We'll stop Team Rocket just like we always do. They're always too dumb to actually get away with what they do."

"But what if it's not Team Rocket?" she demanded, her voice low but angry. "Will you just listen to what Samuel…"

"No, I don't want to listen to whatever Samuel said!" Ash exclaimed. He heard Brock stir in his sleep, and he lowered his voice. "We're just getting ourselves wound up about nothing. Let's just go to sleep for now and in the morning we won't be as freaked out."

Misty turned her face up towards the ceiling, reluctantly letting the subject drop for the moment. Whenever Ash had truly made up his mind, it was nearly impossible to change it. Stubborn to the bone, that was Ash. "Tomorrow's the solar eclipse," she said softly.

Ash brightened. "Yeah, it is. That'll be cool."

Misty laughed softly at the optimism in his voice. "Yeah, sure. Cool," she replied, but there was no conviction in her voice. "Good night, Ash."

"'Night, Misty," he replied, finally able to settle in and follow his own advice to settle in for the night and leave all their worries for the morning.

Misty, however, sat up all night, staring up at the ceiling as though seeking answers to the questions that she alone held.

* * *

Ash awoke slowly, groggily, the next morning, to a blaring sound. For a moment, he worried that something else was happening, that maybe the house was being attacked now, but as he clumsily sat up, he saw that all that had disturbed his peaceful slumber was the television set.

He was alone on the floor now, Brock and Misty having gotten up and left their neatly rolled sleeping bags in their place. Even Pikachu was gone, and he looked around for them, disorientated, still reeling from the events of the previous night and from sleeping in an unfamiliar setting.

"Finally, you're awake." Leaning back on his elbows, Ash tilted his head back to see Misty and Brock standing in the entrance to the living room, Togepi in Misty's arms and Pikachu on her shoulder. Brock moved past Misty, heading towards the television set.

"Want to be able to hear it," he explained, turning up the television now that Ash was awake, and crossing his arms while regarding it warily.

"What's going on?" Ash asked, sitting straight up again and looking at the television set.

"They're covering what happened last night," Misty said in a hushed voice, sitting down on the couch and turning her attention to the newscast on the television. Pikachu jumped down from her shoulder back down to Ash's sleeping bag, settling down in his lap, his eyes also focused on the television. Misty placed Togepi down next to Pikachu, and even the baby Pokemon had quieted its chirping, seemingly aware of the serious air around its companions.

"…no suspects have been named at the time, but police continue to investigate," the reporter said, clutching a microphone and standing on front of the Pewter City Gym.

Ash's eyes widened. "Whoa! Are they right outside?"

"Yes," Misty said, crossing her arms. "And they questioned all of us while you were snoozing away." She made a face at him. "Lazy."

"I am not!" he shot back instinctively. Then, distracted, he leapt to his feet, hurrying over to the window and pulling back the curtain, peering out. A crowd had gathered in front of the destroyed gym, hovering around the remains or around the news van. He could even make out the small outline of what was the reporter herself, reporting the story that was playing for them right now.

"It's crazy out there…" he muttered. He squinted up at the sky, still fairly bright. "When is the eclipse supposed to be happening?"

Brock checked his watch. "Not until later in the afternoon. Maybe that'll drive them away." He chuckled. "Give them something else to look at."

"I guess we should wait until the crowd clears a bit before heading out," Misty said reluctantly.

"Probably," Ash agreed, then he started, realizing that someone was missing. "Where's your dad, Brock?"

"He left a note saying he went into the city to petition to rebuild the gym. It should get approved. It's been all over the news." He crossed his arms thoughtfully. "I'd probably feel more comfortable if we waited until he got back before leaving. Forrest is old enough to watch them, but I'd rather wait for him."

Misty gazed out of the window, her eyes troubled. "I hope he gets back soon," she said softly, and Ash wrinkled his brow as her forlorn tone. Even he could tell that there was something bothering her that she wasn't sharing with the group. He might not be the quickest, but after five years with Misty he had learned how to pick up on certain signals.

Then again, Misty had tried to talk to him last night, and he had refused to listen. But could that silly story Samuel told her really be all that was bothering her?

Maybe she was just homesick. That seemed like a good explanation. It had been a long time since they stopped in Cerulean.

But Misty was never one to get homesick…

His attention was diverted by the television once more, which had switched back to the studio and had changed the subject. "In other news," the male reporter said, consulting his notes, "the Cinnabar Gym is closed to trainers indefinitely. Blaine, the gym leader, has vanished again and many predict that he had decided to take up his seclusion once more."

"Blaine's gone?" Brock asked, a bit taken aback. "I thought he decided to keep the gym open."

"Yeah, me too," Ash replied, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

"Do you think…do you think something happened to him?" Misty asked, her voice rising a bit in pitch with fear.

"No," Ash said, a bit surprised that that was the first thing she had thought of. Then again, with the last couple of days passing the way they had, he couldn't exactly blame her. "I think it's just Blaine being Blaine again. A crazy unpredictable hippie who randomly abandons his gym from time to time."

Misty turned back towards the window, her expression further marred with worry. "So you think it's a coincidence?" she asked, her tone heavy with disbelief.

"I guess so…" Ash replied uncertainly, not sure as to what answer she was looking for from him. There didn't have to be higher meaning in everything—certainly it was just a coincidence. Or maybe it was the events of what had happened to Viridian and now Pewter that had caused Blaine to retreat. If he thought that his gym was in danger, maybe he had tried to cut them off at the pass and simply close before the culprits—probably Team Rocket—could get to him.

He decided to share this theory with the others. "Maybe he's just worried about everything that's happening, and he's just playing it safe by closing the gym."

Brock looked thoughtful. "It's a possibility…" he mused. " Blaine's a pretty smart guy."

Misty didn't look convinced, and she gripped the windowsill firmly as though it would keep her grounded. She watched the crowds milling around what had once been the gym, her gaze hot as she wished them away so that they could leave and head on to Cerulean City.

"Are you okay?" Brock asked kindly, picking up on Misty's unhappy nature.

"No," she shot back. "I'm scared, okay? This is scary."

"Don't be scared," Ash said suddenly, no hint of mockery in his voice. Instead, he reached for one of Misty's hands that held the windowsill in a death grip, clasping it with his own. She started, surprised, and normally this would have caused him to pull away, normally with a red face borne of her reaction. This time, however, he held firm. It didn't feel awkward or unnatural, and the action seemed to calm her as her shoulders relaxed and she sighed, rubbing her face tiredly with the hand that was not in Ash's.

"Don't be," he repeated, assuring her. "There's nothing to worry about." He smiled. "Me, you, and Brock…we always seem to make it through. As long as we stick together, nothing will go wrong."

* * *

Chapter 5 will be completed hopefully the week after Christmas. We'll see how it goes with my work schedule.

I hope everyone who celebrates has a healthy and happy holiday! And enjoy the time off for anyone who doesn't celebrate. ;-)

As always, feedback and reviews are appreciated! Until next time!


	5. Chapter 5

"When do you think your father will be coming back

A/N: This chapter was hard to write, because there was a lot to get done. I tweaked it many times and in the end ended up adding something that will play a major plot point later, something that wasn't in the original plan. Anyway, I'm just glad to be done!

Thanks to those who have reviewed so far, especially **Spruceton Spook **and **Bittersweet Romanticide** who always review with some great comments, and so **HRY **for their wonderful indepth review! It's really appreciated! (PS: **HRY**, I wish you had an account because I had things I wanted to say in particular about your review in a PM!)

To those who haven't reviewed—please take the time, especially those who have either favorited the story or put in on alert.

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 5 **

"When do you think your father will be coming back?" Misty asked for probably the three hundredth time.

Ash gritted his teeth in annoyance, but Brock seemed to have a never-ending supply of patience—Ash supposed a hoard of younger siblings could do that to a person—and so he just answered the same answer that he had given, over and over, every time, for the last three hours. "I don't know, Misty. He didn't say."

The scene outside had calmed down, due to the efforts of Officer Jenny and her team, who had cleared the area after they finished questioning any and all who had been involved. Ash, who had slept through the first round of questioning that Misty and Brock had to endure, was forced to sit down and explain why the idea that he would want to blow up the Pewter City Gym was completely and utterly crazy.

There was still no identified culprit, but Officer Jenny had told them that she would continue to investigate until they had captured the guilty party. For now, however, the Slate household was at peace.

Flint had yet to return from petitioning the city, and Ash didn't know if his continued absence meant that the city was refusing his plea, or that there was simply a lot of business to attend to that day. Either way, the house seemed oddly quiet and on edge without his presence and the answers he would be able to provide the group with in regards to the future of the gym.

Brock's siblings were going about their daily routine of studying and helping around the house, habits left over from when it was only Brock caring for them. It seemed fairly calm, compared to the scene the other day, where Brock's reappearance had caused such an excited uproar. But now they patiently went about their day, waiting for their father to return just as Ash, Misty, and Brock did the same.

However, Brock's younger siblings were doing so with much more patience than some members of their own group.

They had tried, over the last several hours, to entertain themselves. Brock had managed to find a Pokemon match broadcast on television, and Ash of course watched this in a sort of trance that caused him to ignore anything and everything his friends tried to talk to him about.

The only interesting event of the afternoon had been when an eager Forrest had challenged Ash to a Pokemon battle, trying to hone his skills for when he became a full trainer and ran the gym. Still young and inexperienced, he was roundly defeated by his more experienced opponent, but Ash was quick to assure him that with time and practice, he was sure that Forrest would find himself the victor.

"Besides," he had said, recalling Bulbasaur, "your brother still can't beat me!" This had led to a joking argument with Brock that had almost led to another battle, but already the fancy was wearing away and boredom was setting in again.

Now they stood outside on the porch, now that it was calmer, now it was safe to come outside. Ash had released Squirtle and Bulbasaur, and they ran around the yard with Pikachu and Togepi in a game of tag that the trainers watched fondly.

"They're not showing any aggression," Ash remarked, still trying to prove to himself and to Misty, especially, that there was nothing to worry about.

"I don't know, that's some pretty aggressive tag," Brock joked, and Ash was glad to see that he seemed to have rallied a bit since the day before. The fact that his father was, even now, already, petitioning to rebuild the gym seemed to have lifted his spirits. Still, he pointedly didn't look at the remains of the gym, though they hovered in the background and in the back of all their minds like an omen.

"Hard to believe in a few hours, it's going to be completely dark," Misty commented softly, shielding her eyes with her hand as she gazed up, squinting and blinking, into the bright sky. It was soothing, the strong and steady sun, and soon it would be gone for the eclipse.

But Ash couldn't make himself see it as a big event, as Misty seemed to. She seemed determined to treat it like some awful occurrence, when really, it was just the sun being blocked by the moon for a few hours. Ash was hardly a scholar, and even _he _knew that.

A sudden movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned his head, hoping to see _anything _interesting. Maybe it was a new Pokemon that he could capture. Anything to improve the day.

But what he saw made him narrow his eyes in confusion.

There, in the ruins of the Pewter City Gym, was a little girl. How she had slipped past the barriers the police had put up, Ash had no idea, nor did he have a clue _why _she would want to be in the middle of the pile of boulders and dust. She was tiny, probably only five or six years old, if he had to make a guess from the distance he stood at. She was too far for Ash to make out any distinct features, but, he realized with a jolt of surprise, based on what he _could _see…she looked a little bit like Misty.

She had the same red-orange hair, though it was longer than Misty's and was neatly plaited in a braid down her back, and the same creamy pale skin. And Ash couldn't tell, but he was willing to bet that she had the same blue-green eyes, as well.

She was wearing a pretty pale blue dress with a white ribbon tied in a bow behind her back that matched a similar ribbon tied at the end of her braid. Definitely not play clothes, or ones that a child would be wearing while exploring a disaster site that she should not be exploring in the first place.

She really did look a lot like Misty.

"Hey, guys…what's that little girl doing over there?" Ash asked, turning to face Brock and Misty and tilting his head in the direction of the destroyed gym.

"Pika?" Pikachu questioned, looking at Ash curiously.

Misty matched Pikachu's confused expression. "What little girl?" she asked, glancing past Ash to where the gym had been. "I don't see anything."

Quickly, Ash turned his head back, but Misty was right. There was no little girl, there was no one even close to the rubble, the police barriers still strong and restrictive to anyone who might want to cross. There was no one in the open area around the gym. There was no one at all.

But there _had _been a little girl, and Ash wondered how she had run so fast and so far that she had already left his line of sight while his back had been turned.

He wrinkled his brow. "There _was _a little girl…" he trailed off, scratching his head. "Really!" he added, seeing Misty's skeptical expression.

"Why would a little girl be over there?" Brock asked, exasperated. "You must have been seeing this, Ash."

"I wasn't!" Ash protested stubbornly. "There was a little girl, just wandering around…she looked kinda like you!" He pointed at Misty, who sighed and rolled her eyes a bit.

"Then where is she now?" Brock pointed out practically. "There's nowhere she could have run and hide in the couple of seconds you turned your back." Ash fell silent, unable to argue with Brock's logic.

"I saw someone," he said stubbornly, folding his arms in front of him. He ignored when Brock and Misty exchanged a look that said that either of them really believed what he was saying.

"If you say so, Ash," Brock said in that voice that Ash hated so much—the one that said that he didn't believe him, but he was going to placate him anyway and pretend that he was right. He tightened his arms, scowling, well aware that he looked like a petulant child but not particularly caring.

"I _did_," he threw in, just to make sure he had the last word, and he pretended he didn't see Brock shoot Misty what was now an amused look.

"Come on," Brock said, in a subject change that he was so good at. "Let's go inside. Forrest has a new Pokemon trivia game that he wanted to play."

Ash, despite himself, perked up. "Pokemon trivia? Ha! I'll beat the pants off of him!" he exclaimed, hurrying back into the house with Pikachu on his heels.

"Yeah, right!" Misty called after him. "Admit it, Ash Ketchum, you've gotten where you are not with any kind of knowledge, but on pure dumb luck!"

Brock laughed. "Maybe pure dumb luck will help him win the game," he suggested. "Come on, let's go inside."

* * *

"I can't believe he beat me," Ash moaned again. "He should have let me use Dexter. It's only fair! He probably read the questions ahead of time!"

"Just admit it, Ash, you got creamed," Brock said with good nature. "You may have been able to beat him in battle but when it comes to knowledge, Forrest has you licked."

Ash rested his head on the kitchen table, and Pikachu, sitting on the table, patted the back of his head comfortingly. "I can't believe he beat me," he repeated.

"Brock, when do you think your father will be back?" Misty asked suddenly, and Ash groaned.

"Misty, will you just can it already? He'll get back when he gets back! Jeez!" he complained, still in a sour mood over his loss.

Misty ignored him, looking expectantly at Brock, who sighed and repeated the same answer he had given her time and time again. "I don't know, Misty," he said tiredly.

Misty tapped her fingers on the kitchen counter, the glass of water that she had poured for herself sitting next to her hand, untouched. For the last couple of hours, she had seemed unendingly restless, and suddenly Ash realized what her endless fidgeting was insinuating.

"You want to _leave_," he blurted out in disbelief. "We just got here yesterday! We only spent one night in Pallet Town, then one night here, and you're already ready to move on!"

"I'm just freaked out about everything that's been happening!" Misty snapped in response. "If I could just get to the gym, and check on my sisters, I'll feel better. We can come back! I just need…I need to…ease my mind."

"You're so selfish!" he snapped back, feeling his temper setting on edge. Perhaps it wasn't fair, perhaps 'selfish' had been a bad word choice, but he couldn't help but be angry, his loss not helping his mood. "What about Brock? What about me? I thought this was supposed to be like the 'old times', but really you just wanted to go home and are dragging us across the region with you!"

As he could have predicted, Misty's face started turning pink in anger. He often thought, in moments where he didn't want to throttle her, that Misty would never be able to hide how she was feeling. It was always written right across her face, in her eyes. "I'm selfish?" she spat, and she trembled a bit with the rage that seemed to accompany those words. "_I'm _selfish? All you ever think about is yourself! It's always about Ash Ketchum and his journey! Going home always means going to _his _home! Believe it or not, Ash, I had a life before I met you, one that I left behind!"

"I didn't make you give up anything!" He was aware that his voice was rising in volume, and that he was yelling at this point. Similarly, he was aware that this wasn't one of their 'comfort fights', ones that they had to remind themselves that he was Ash and she was Misty and arguing was what they did best. It was in all reality, a true fight, and her comments about giving up her life to travel with him stung. He didn't want to think of Misty reluctantly following him around, still waiting for that damn bike, waiting and wishing she could go back to her gym and the life she left behind.

"Guys…" Brock tried to interject. He already had his fingers on his temple, trying to soothe away a beginnings of a pounding headache as his two friends shrieked at each other. "Look, Ash, with the way things have been going, I don't blame Misty for wanting to check in at home…"

"Oh, sure, take her side!" Ash threw up his hands. Everyone _always _took Misty's side, usually even Pikachu, and almost always Brock and Tracey. It seemed unfair, because he _knew _that in this case (and in most cases!) he was _right_.

"I'm not taking her side!" Brock exclaimed. "I'm just trying to make you see her point of view! And Misty, you need to see how Ash is tired after what happened in the Orange Islands and doesn't want to haul himself all around Kanto with only a night's rest in each place…"

"Well, fine!" Misty shouted, her fists clenched at her sides. "Then you two can stay here and keep pretending that nothing's happening and that everything's going to be just fine! Me? I'm going to go see my sisters before something happens to them and our gym!"

"Fine! Go then!" Ash shouted back, always able to match her volume. He didn't mean it, in reality. He didn't want Misty to leave, but nor did _he _want to leave. He didn't want to admit that something big was going on that needed to be dealt with. Couldn't someone else handle it this time? Officer Jenny and the authorities? Why did it always have to be their group who had to save everyone? And yet Misty seemed to insist on blinding running towards the unknown danger they may be facing.

"Fine! I will!" Misty accepted his challenge, pushing past him, heading back towards the living room. Ash and Brock watched as she shoved her crumpled pajamas into her sleeping bag, and tied her sleeping bag onto her bag.

"Misty, I don't know if this is the best idea…" Brock pleaded, watching his friend angrily pull on her sneakers and sling her backpack over her shoulders. She ignored his pleas, delivered in a soothing, calming tone, laden with worry.

"Try not to get lost," Ash spat sarcastically, not joining in with Brock's attempts to calm the fiery girl down.

"That should be easy enough, since _you _won't be leading!" Misty shot back. She picked up Togepi, the one thing she did with care, and made a great show of stomping to the door, flinging it open and slamming it shut behind her. That was Misty, always the drama queen, always one to make a scene.

It drove him crazy.

Ash and Brock stood there for a long moment, the silence deafening. He could practically feel the weight of Brock's disapproval weighing down on him, like a hand on his head. "You really made her mad," Brock commented, his voice heavy as the two boys continued to look at the closed door, as though waiting for Misty to reappear.

She didn't.

Ash scowled. "Well, she made me really mad, too!" he exclaimed. "She's just thinking about herself."

Brock raised an eyebrow. "And you're not?"

Ash opened and closed his mouth, gaping like a Magikarp. "No!" he sputtered, although he couldn't think of one good piece of evidence to back it up. "I'm being _reasonable_," he finally spat out. "She's just being _dumb_!"

But even as he said this, he was stomping into the living room and flopping down on the couch, reaching for his shoes and yanking them on, stuffing his things angrily into his bag. Pikachu and Brock watched him curiously as he grumbled to himself. Stupid Misty. Stupid Misty doing stupid things and having to make a big scene in going off in a big huff. She could never just sit down and shut up.

"Face it, Ash, you guys were _both _being selfish," Brock said. He paused, watching Ash get ready in the same angry pace that Misty had only a few moments earlier.

"Where are you going?" he asked curiously, watching a fuming Ash as Pikachu approached his trainer, waiting for instruction.

Ash scowled as he tossed his backpack over his shoulder. "Well, I didn't expect her to actually _leave_."

"Better let her get a head start," Brock suggested. "Hang back for a bit until she's cooled down."

"Yeah, you're right," Ash grumbled. He flopped down on the couch, kicking his backpack lightly in order to punctuate his annoyance.

"Here, there's a battle on Channel K4," Brock said encouragingly, knowing that Ash, like a small child, could be easily diverted by the television. "Let's watch it and then you can go meet up wih Misty. She might even come back before that. And if she doesn't, I'll meet up with you guys along the way to Cerulean, after my dad gets back."

"I don't know why she just couldn't _wait_," Ash grumbled, but his eyes were already glued to the television in anticipation of the battle he was about to see.

"She's worried, Ash," Brock said in that ever-reasonable voice that sometimes, just sometimes, Ash hated. Sometimes he just wanted to be irrational and angry, and Brock always seemed to be calm and rational, unless, of course, a pretty girl was involved. "Just let her drag us to Cerulean for a day, she'll feel better, and then we can relax."

"Stupid girls," he muttered in response.

Suddenly, Ash was practically choking as Brock grabbed him by the collar. "Girls are not stupid!" he said fiercely. "Don't you _ever _say that again! What kind of man are you? Girls are _everything_!"

"A dying one," Ash croaked out in response to Brock's question. Sheepishly, Brock released his collar, and Ash rubbed his throat, taking a few deep breaths in order to regain his composure and bring color back into his face.

This was exactly what he meant. Rational, calm, even-tempered Brock…until you brought girls into the equation. Then forget about logic and common sense—they were far forgotten friends as soon as a Nurse Joy or Officer Jenny appeared on the scene.

"Let's just watch the battle," Brock replied, still sounding a bit embarrassed about his outburst. But he couldn't help it if his passion for women was only matched by Ash's passion for battling! He was sure that Ash would have had a similar reaction had Brock said 'Pokemon training is stupid.'

"Yeah," Ash replied, edging a little bit away from Brock. Just in case. He checked the wall clock—he could never be bothered with a watch, especially when Misty and Brock usually wore them. The length of one battle would give Misty enough time to storm around and cool her heels, and hit some things along the way that weren't him, and then he'd meet up with her again.

* * *

And storming around was exactly what Misty was doing at that precise moment. And she was enjoying it, as well. There was something so satisfying in lifting her knees higher than was technically needed to take a step, to bring it down hard and hear the crunch of the earth beneath her feet as though it, too, were cowering from her rage. There was something therapeutic about keeping her fists balled and rod-straight at her sides, Togepi safely tucked into her bag so that her baby Pokemon did not have to bear witness to Misty's rage. _Stupid Ash. Stupid Ash and stupid Brock_, though she found that 'stupid Ash' seemed to the one repeating much more frequently. Not that that was anything new.

Hurricane Misty crashed through the high-sitting wheat grass that stood between her and the path to Cerulean City. A tunnel had been built straight through Mt. Moon, and therefore she wouldn't suffer getting lost in the cave once she arrived there. _Although_, she thought angrily, _if Ash were here I'm sure I'd end up getting lost anyway. He's so stupid. Stupid Ash_.

She collapsed down in the grass, flopping down on her behind and resting her palms behind her so that she could lean back and tilt her face back to the sun, enjoying the warmth on her face while she could. _He doesn't understand_, a small voice inside of her reminded her, but Misty was able to push that voice aside in her desire to remain angry at Ash—at Brock, as well, but mostly at Ash.

The grass shifted around her, ending above her head now that she was sitting down, blocking her from view from any outsiders who might be strolling past. It gave her a sense of security, knowing that she was hidden from the world, protected and shielded by the tall stalks. She reached into her backpack to pull out Togepi to keep her company now that she had calmed down slightly, but she found to her disappointment that her Pokemon had fallen asleep. She withdrew her hands reluctantly, leaving Togepi to snooze away.

She pulled a large tuft of the wheat grass, twirling it in her hands. Maybe storming off hadn't been the best idea, although Ash _had _told her to go. But now she was going to be stuck traveling on her own to Cerulean in the dark.

Maybe she could make it to the Pokemon Center outside of Mt. Moon and call her sisters to meet her…

Who was she kidding? There was no chance of her sisters coming out to get her. She felt a spark of anger at that—she was racing to Cerulean City because she was worried about her sisters and about their gym, but they would certainly never make the slightest effort to reach _her_.

_Be fair_, her mind counseled. _They don't know, either. Just like Ash and Brock don't_.

_I don't want to be fair_, she thought angrily, tossing the tuff of grass to the ground. She wished that she had never asked Samuel to tell her the legend. She felt so alone with her knowledge, knowledge that her friends seemed determined to not hear. Maybe it was appropriate that she was sitting here in a patch of weeds by herself, even Togepi having left her for a trip to dreamland.

Misty reached into her backpack, withdrawing the small cylinder shaped artifact that Samuel had given to her before they had left his home. She had protested, saying that it was a family heirloom, but he had told her, with a sort of knowing sad smile, that he thought she would get better use of it than he would.

That scared her.

She ran her fingers over the suns that had been sketched into the gold object, sitting heavy in the palm of her hand. It was small and tube-shaped, the carvings giving it a rough texture. She frowned in confusion, looking down at it. "It doesn't _look _like a weapon," she mumbled, and she turned it over a couple of times, searching for a button, an opening, anything. "How does it work?" She didn't even know what it was supposed to _do_.

Samuel hadn't told her that. But she had been so confused at the turn of events that she hadn't bothered to ask. Either way, Misty's gut told her that this was something to hold on to, so she carefully replaced it from where she had taken it out, closing her backpack up tight.

She drew in her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. She sighed heavily, feeling most of the anger leave her at the exhale, leaving her instead with a steely resolve to see done what had to be done. If that meant going to Cerulean all on her own, well then, so be it. She would meet back up with Ash and Brock in Pallet Town in a couple of days, which is where they would probably move on to next now that Misty had left to travel on her own. She could make them feel bad there, she thought with a very small smile passing over her lips.

The smile faded as she heard a crunching that drew her attention, coming from a few feet away from where she sat. Immediately she sat up on her knees, grabbing her backpack protectively. "Who's there?" she called. Could it be a wild Pokemon? Immediately, a bit fearful in the face of an unseen enemy, she reached into her bag and withdrew Staryu's Pokeball, her one Pokemon that could be relied on to fight effectively while on land. Though she loved water Pokemon more than any others, she had to admit that at times it left her at a disadvantage.

Times like this.

She almost wished Ash was there.

No, she wished _Pikachu _was there. With a good Thunder attack.

There. That was better.

Footsteps. It sounded like footsteps, mimicking the crunching that her own movements had caused. But smaller, perhaps like the person was creeping up on her. The hairs on the back of Misty's neck stood up on end at the idea. "Ash? Brock?" she called, actually hoping that her friends, whom she had been so angry with, had caught up with her.

Rather that than the alternate.

Misty scrambled to her feet, pulling her backpack over her shoulders again, still clutching her Pokeball, and scanned the area. There seemed to be no one around in the large weed patch, but the sound of approaching footsteps continued. Unless—she thought, panicked—they were sneaking up on her?

"Ash? Brock? Pikachu?" she called again. "Guys, this isn't funny! I'm already mad at you! Don't make it worse!"

She heard a soft giggle that seemed to echo from all around her, bouncing off the trees that lingered in the distance. It seemed to come from both far away and from inside her, and she turned in a dizzy circle, trying to locate the source of the laughter. "Ash? Brock?" she repeated lamely, despite the fact that she was certain, at this point, that it had not been her friends she had heard. She could feel her heart thudding unsteadily in her chest, her palms slick against Staryu's Pokeball as the tension crawled up her shoulders, preparing her for a battle she could not see.

_Don't be afraid_.

And suddenly, she wasn't. The words seemed to come from her heart, whispered in her ear like an intimate friend, a mother and a child all in one. Soothing and loving, it put Misty's mind at ease, and she lowered her arm to her side, her grip on the Pokeball releasing.

"Where are you?" she asked out loud, wanting to see her visitor, one that now seemed so unthreatening. She was driven by curiosity this time, rather than fear or panic.

_Over here_.

The voice was lilting and tempting, filling Misty with a warmth much like sitting beside the fireside with a cup of hot chocolate, or a long bath after a hard day. It frustrated her, more than it logically should have, that she couldn't seem to determine where the voice was coming from. She wanted to sit down and cry as her eyes scanned the area and still saw nothing, frustration building within her even as a small voice within her whispered _this isn't right_.

She ignored the voice, concentrating instead on the one that called to her, so much sweeter and full of promise than her own nagging conscience.

_Misty_…

It said her name with such warmth and care—_she_ said her name with such warmth and care, for Misty was certain now that the voice was a female. It sounded like a sister (not one of _her _sisters, however), or…she almost didn't allow herself to think the painful truth, but it rose unbidden to her mind…like a _mother_. Or at least what she thought a mother would sound like saying her name…she had so few memories of her own mother. Sometimes Mrs. Ketchum almost said her name that way, almost like a mother, as close as a woman who was _not _her mother could be, but this voice was more, and it made Misty want to follow.

Her feet seemed to have a mind of her own as she blindly took one step, and then another. The voice encouraged her, called her, lured her. _Misty…Misty…Misty…_

_I hold every dream you've ever dreamt in my hands. All you have to do…is take it. _

Her footsteps quickened, she was speedwalking, and then she was running, the voice rising in volume all around her and crying words of encouragement that lifted her heart and her spirits. Could it be true? Could this mysterious stranger, one who already seemed so much like a friend, one that had been lost and lacking for so long, really be the answer to everything Misty had ever wanted? The key to becoming the greatest Water Pokemon trainer…a whole and complete family…and a certain idiotic Pokemon trainer.

She felt as though she were running through a fog—all she could think about, all she could concentrate on, was that voice. Her mind felt foggy and the rest of the world seemed to melt away, leaving only her and it, and the voice's promise. There was nothing else. There could be nothing else.

_Misty…hurry, Misty, you have to hurry…_

_Wait for me, wait for me, I'm coming_! Misty thought frantically, picking up her speed, her feet moving lightning fast over the grass. She moved gracefully, not tripping or catching her feet on any of the stones or sticks that blocked her way to happiness. Concentrating solely on that voice, she didn't bother to watch where she was going, trusting it to guide her. She would follow it anywhere.

_Misty…Misty…_

She loved the way she said her name. She pictured it accompanied by a gentle hand smoothing her hair, touching her cheek, a light kiss on her forehead. All the tenderness she had missed out on by losing her mother so young, tenderness her sisters had certainly never bestowed upon her. She closed her eyes, wanting to fall into the sound, giving herself entirely up to the sensation of being led by something greater than herself, being tugged as though someone were pulling a string that led directly from her heart.

_Misty! _

She frowned, but didn't slow her pace. It had sounded different this time. Before the voice had sounded so sweetly feminine, like the voice of an angel, like the chiming of a bell or cooing of a dove. Now it sounded more…earthly. Deeper.

Masculine.

She didn't like it.

_Misty…_

There it was, the voice she trusted. _Don't be afraid_, it soothed her, and she smiled again, because she wasn't afraid. It was so close now, it was as though she could embrace it if she opened her arms and just leaned forward…

_Misty! Misty! What are you doing?? _

She paused, hesitating at the intruding voice once more. It robbed her of her joy, pulled her from her blissful oblivion back towards earth, and she resented it for that. But it sounded familiar. Was it her conscience again, which screamed to her that she was being a fool, but whom she had suppressed?

No. It couldn't be.

_Come now…a bit further! _The voice called, and the cloudy feeling was back, and Misty was sure that if she took just a few more steps, everything would be all right and she could live in this feeling of eternal contentment forever.

Hands landed heavily on her arms, and she was being pulled violently backwards, back to earth, almost falling to the ground, crashing against someone else. She cried out in shock and anger—she didn't want to go back, she wanted to go forward, to that voice, that heavenly voice that had promised her everything! She struggled against her captor, but they clung tight, shaking her violently until she was forced to open her eyes, and suddenly that beautiful voice was gone, and she realized why the second voice was so familiar.

It was Ash.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, hurt that he would want to keep her from her dreams. Didn't he understand that she had been so close, so close to achieving it all?

But even as she thought that, even as she scolded him, she slowly started coming to her senses. Her mind cleared of the fog that had surrounded it, that blissfully empty and trusting feeling. Her heart dropped in her chest—of course it had been some kind of trick or illusion. No voice could give her everything she wanted, no matter how tempting it may sound.

Ash looked at her as though she was insane, and maybe for a moment, Misty realized with horror, she had been. "What am _I _doing?" he blurted out. "What are _you _doing? Are you _nuts_?" His grip on her arms tightened, and she jumped a bit in shock.

He was breathing heavily, and a trickle of sweat ran down the side of his neck, as though he had chased after her. She looked at him curiously, uncertain as to why he seemed _so _upset, or why he had felt the need to run. Certainly she had been acting oddly, and she was sure she had looked odd to Ash, but his reaction seemed out of proportion to the event.

"What's wrong?" she asked him, honestly unaware of what had caused his distress, and silently, still gripping her shoulders tightly to keep her in place, he spun her around so that she was once more facing the direction she had run to in order to follow the voice.

It was the edge of a ravine, steep and imposing with rocks jutting out from the cliff edge on the way down, leading down, down, down to a raging river that Misty knew would become a calm stream several miles away. But not here.

This was where she had been led, where that voice that had seemed so sweet and motherly had led her. This was where she had been lured.

She felt oddly betrayed, even though she wasn't sure at this point why.

She inhaled sharply, taking an instinctive step backwards so that she bumped into Ash. His grip tightened, strong and steady, keeping her secure and keeping her grounded. She turned to him, the horror that had been on his face now reflected on her own as the reality of just how close of a call she had had sunk in. She studied him, wondering how he had found her right when she had needed him most, when they had fought and she had left him and Brock behind.

This was where Ash had found her.

"What were you doing?" he asked, his voice incredulous.

"I…I don't know…" Misty trailed off, frowning in confusion. What _had _she been doing? Already the logic and conviction that had led her here was fading away, though it had been so strong, leaving her with an unsettled feeling that she didn't like much at all. There had been a voice…she had followed it…but why? And why did she end up here, about to leap…she gulped…leap to her death?

Ash had found her though, even though she had left him behind. She looked at him uncertainly—were they still fighting?

"Yeah, well…" he grumbled in response to the question that remained unsaid, kicking a stone while trying to maintain a gruff exterior. He wasn't very good at it. "I wasn't _really _going to let you go all the way to Cerulean by yourself. You'd probably do something dumb, like try and walk off a cliff," he added, trying to weakly joke about the situation.

He instinctively cringed, waiting for the slap or the smack that would usually follow such a remark. Instead, to his immense surprise, Misty wound her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, unusually quiet.

For a moment, he stood shock still, unsure how to respond. His hands were still gripping Misty's upper arms tightly, from where he had stopped her from going any further towards certain doom, and although _stopping her _had been so crystal clear as to what he had to do, right now, he simply didn't know what to do.

Misty just wasn't a huggy person. She wasn't one to seek comfort from others, instead relying on her own strength and sometimes stubbornness. Her weaknesses? Well, she simply didn't let them be seen, not even to him or to Brock, who had known her for years. Probably left over from steeling herself against her sisters, she simply wasn't one to make herself vulnerable to another person, and now that she _was_, and to _him_, Ash was, quickly frankly, terrified out of his mind.

Was he supposed to _ask _her if she was okay, or _tell_ her that she was? Should he leave his hands on her arms? Or move them? Did she want him to hug her back, or would she find that strange? _Oh, God…_he prayed, _please, please, please don't let her cry, don't let her cry…_

It was only when he forced himself to stop actively thinking about what was happening that the answer came to him instinctively. Cautiously, testing, he moved his hands so that his arms rested around her, returning her embrace. One arm laid around her waist, the other in the middle of her back. He didn't stroke her hair or rub her back, or anything that might cause her to stiffen once more—he simply clung to her as she clung to him.

And he said nothing, because nothing needed to be said. Instead he wondered why Misty smelled nice, like streams and the forest and wild flowers…all the nice things you found outdoors, while he usually smelled like dirt and sweat and rain, and when he had grown to be as tall as she.

They stood there for a long moment, without speaking, and Ash was a bit surprised at how, well…comfortable the moment was. He would have expected to feel uneasy, but it felt natural and he found as much comfort in the embrace as she had hoped to find when seeking him out. They didn't speak of their argument—it was their nature. If they talked through every disagreement or fight they had, they would spend their whole lives doing nothing but discussing their problems and would probably in the end forget why they were friends in the first place. No, it was far more comfortable for both of them to simply let the matter go, gone on the wind that rustled Misty's hair, shifting it so that it brushed against Ash's cheek, and he was suddenly aware of just how close together they were.

_I'm glad you're okay_ was on the tip of his tongue. _I don't want anything to happen to you_. He dismissed those as too sentimental and silly. But perhaps in reality it was that they were too honest, too truthful, and he didn't know how she would take them, and if she twisted the words and threw them back at him, it would hurt. And he didn't know why this was such a surprising revelation—of _course _he didn't want anything to happen to Misty; she was his friend! He also didn't want anything to happen to Brock, Pikachu, his mom, Tracey, Professor Oak, all of his Pokemon, all the friends he'd made on his journey, and, if he was lucky, himself.

But for some reason, this seemed more profound, more important. A different sort of feeling than the one he had grown accustomed to, different than his desire for nothing to happen to Brock or his family or his Pokemon or himself. He just…

He didn't want anything to happen to Misty.

He didn't tell her, but instead tightened his embrace, wondering if she could feel the words. They seemed to flow through his bloodstream, out of his head and into his heart and from there it spread like Brock's hot chocolate, soothing and comforting on a dark and cold night.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Misty broke away suddenly at the sound of Brock's voice, teasing and mischievous, and Ash's arms fell down by his side, feeling heavy and useless. She wouldn't meet his eye, and her face was starting to turn a little red. He wanted to tell her not to be embarrassed—that it was okay to be scared, that it was okay that she had needed, for a moment, to lean on him. But instead he shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping his voice casual as he turned to Brock. "Hey! I'm guessing your dad got back."

Brock's lips were twitching as he fought back a smirk, and Ash was glad to see Brock in good humor, even if he did kind of want to beat the smirk off his face in that particular moment. "No, seriously," he said, his voice trembling from the effort of holding back his laughter. "I didn't mean to interrupt your passionate embrace. By all means, don't mind me."

"Shut up, Brock," Misty snapped, rolling her eyes, and she didn't _sound _any different than normal, and she didn't sound—Ash thanked every God in the universe on this one—as though she were on the verge of tears.

"Oooh, someone's mad at me now," Brock couldn't help himself. "Sorry if I was ruining your tender moment." He reached out and playfully tugged Misty's ponytail, still snickering to himself. She scowled at him, smacking him hard on the arm, and Ash wondered if it was for what he said or because he pulled her hair.

Either way, he found himself being the voice of reason for what was possibly the first time in five years. "Brock," he repeated, "did your dad get back?"

"Yeah," he said, and then the reason for his good mood was apparent. "They've approved the grant. We can start rebuilding next month once the funds are transferred." He adjusted his backpack on his back. "I figured I'd go with you guys up to Cerulean, and then we can go back to Pallet Town. I'll hang out with you guys there until you leave or until rebuilding starts." He smiled. "Whichever comes first."

"What about Professor Ivy?" Ash asked curiously.

Brock shrugged. "She'll understand. And maybe I'll go back once the gym is rebuilt." Then, he smiled, putting his hands on his hips and regarding Ash and Misty. "Or maybe I'll meet up with you guys again."

"Really?" Misty exclaimed, and she seemed to have forgotten her anger at Brock, as well as the close call she had just had. Either she had forgotten, or she was pretending very well. The idea of Brock coming back seemed to excite her just as much as it did Ash.

_We'd be a group again_, he thought cheerfully, looking from Misty to Brock to Pikachu dutifully sitting down at his feet, having remained respectfully silent when Ash had found Misty—unlike certain Pewter City Gym Leaders.

He couldn't even pretend to be mad when Brock said that he might come back, and he knew he was wearing a smile that matched Misty's.

He hadn't seen Misty really smile, not like that, for the last couple of days, and this just made Ash's smile grow even more.

The corners of Brock's lips turned up, as well—it was contagious. "Sure!" he exclaimed with gusto, seeing how his suggestion had been taken. "Why not? I miss traveling. I miss the adventure. I miss going to sleep one night in one place and going to sleep the next somewhere completely different. I even…" he hesitated, as though debating as to say the next thing or not. "I even miss you two fighting," he finally said, and then hung his head. "God, I am going to regret saying that," he muttered with a heavy sigh.

"We miss you, too, Brock," Misty said, and Ash nodded in agreement. Brock's annoucement seemed to have shocked all of them back into a state of normalcy, one that Ash welcomed. The talk of the future—of Brock rebuilding his gym and then rejoining his friends—made the present seem a lot less dark and oppressing.

It may have felt lighter, but in reality it was getting steadily darker. Ash didn't even realize it until Pikachu tugged on his pant leg, pointing up to the sky, where the moon was steadily heading towards the sun in an effort to block it out.

"The eclipse," Misty said quietly, and Ash had a feeling that the light-hearted mood was over as their world was slowly but steadily covered in darkness. He shielded his eyes with his hand, glancing up at the sky as the sun slowly disappeared, a sudden sunset, and shadows danced around them, cast by the hovering trees.

As it grew steadily darker, the uneasiness over the fact that he had found Misty, arms spread and joyously about to plunge headfirst into a raging river far below, returned to the front of his mind. He watched her, as though the answer as to what she had been thinking, what she had been _doing_, would be written on her face.

It wasn't, and therefore he found himself having to ask her.

"Misty," he said, his voice suddenly urgent, and her bright blue-green eyes met his, a silent plea in them. _Don't tell_, they seemed to beg of him. Whatever the reason, she didn't want Brock to know, and well, Ash didn't really blame her. She probably didn't want _both _of her best friends to think that she had gone crazy.

Well, he didn't _think _she had gone crazy. He _hoped _she hadn't gone crazy. But he couldn't help but worry, and he knew that those feelings wouldn't go away just because Misty wanted them to.

"No," she said, very softly, and Ash flushed with annoyance.

"But Misty…"

"No!" she repeated, more firmly this time, and Brock looked from one to the other in confusion.

"What's going on?" he asked curiously, and there was that look again in Misty's eyes, pleading, desperate, even a bit haunted, and they made Ash bite his lip. He _couldn't _forget, as much as he wanted to pretend it didn't happen.

But he could at least keep it between the two of them, at least until he figured out what was going on.

"Nothing," he muttered, a bit grumpily, and he saw Misty's face relax. He sighed, turning his face to the approaching eclipse, and the group fell silent.

They stood and watched it happen, because there was nothing else they could have done. Even if they had wanted to, there was no way to stop the inevitable from happening.

* * *

Whew! Every chapter of this thing ends up getting longer and longer. The next chapter is one of the first big events of the story, so stay tuned.

Please take the time to drop me a review! Thanks, and hope you enjoyed!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This chapter took a lot of editing since there's a lot going on, so thanks for your patience in waiting for it! Thank you for the reviews so far, I really appreciate it, especially those who really take the time to let me know what they like about this story. XD They really brighten up my day! I'm hoping to hit the 100 review mark by the end of this story (which will be roughly 21 chapters).

We're at over 1000 hits at this point! Woohoo! At last check there was 1114.

Chapters might take a bit longer at this point, because I'm back at school. We'll see how this semester goes, but I'll try my hardest to still update promptly.

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 6**

They had decided, Misty agreeing rather reluctantly, to camp out outside of Mt. Moon for the night. Misty had wanted to travel straight through the night to Cerulean, but Brock had pointed out, rather sensibly, that it probably wasn't safe to travel through the tunnel that had been carved into the mountain while under the cloak of darkness that the eclipse had caused. Better to wait, he had said, until morning when the eclipse would be over and there would be some light to guide them.

They had sat around the fire, Brock whipping up a quick dinner over the flames, and it did, truly, for a moment, feel like old times. Pikachu chased Togepi around the campsite, the two Pokemon enjoying a moment of play, Misty watching carefully to make sure that Togepi didn't wander too close to the flames, Ash complaining that the food couldn't be ready soon enough for his grumbling stomach.

"It's so dark," Misty said softly, her eyes not leaving her Pokemon, not bothering to look up at the darkened sky. But her eyes were serious and seemed not at all comforted by the sight of her baby Pokemon having a ball with Pikachu.

"Well, duh," Ash couldn't help but point out. "That's what happens when the sun goes _down_, Misty." He felt a completely undeserved surge of pride as he told her this—for once, _he _got to correct _Misty_.

Of course, Brock had to ruin his moment.

"It didn't go down, it's just obscured," Brock corrected, doling out portions to Ash, Misty, and Pikachu. Misty broke pieces of her dinner into small bites for Togepi, and the little Pokemon obediently sat in front of its mother and ate, trilling with contentment.

"Yeah, well, whatever," Ash waved his hand in Brock's direction, grabbing a fork and immediately losing himself in the exquisite perfection that was Brock's cooking. Fighting with Brock was never as entertaining as fighting with Misty, and fighting in general lost its appeal when a meal had been placed in front of him. At that point, all of his focus and concentration went entirely to his stomach and what he was about to put in it.

Misty squinted, gazing past her traveling companions, trying to make out the foreboding shape of Mt. Moon, which hovered over them less than a mile away, a silent spectator in the darkness. "How long do you think it'll take to get to Cerulean?" she asked, her mind, as was per the usual these last few days, occupied with only one thought.

Brock glanced in the direction that Misty was gazing, as though trying to measure the distance to the next city, far from their view. "I don't know. If we start early enough tomorrow we could probably be there by late afternoon." He gestured at Misty's bowl, which sat untouched in her hands save for the pieces she had given to Togepi. "If we're leaving that early, though, you'd better eat up."

Ash snickered. Teasing Misty about her small stature was one of his favorite activities, especially as he and Brock continued to grow and Misty, by comparison, seemed even smaller. And Brock, well, Brock had simply set him up _perfectly _with that comment. "Yeah, come on, scrawny," he said, poking her in the side, against the bare strip of stomach that showed between her shirt and shorts. "Eat up and put some meat on those bones."

"Oh, yeah, like you have room to talk," Misty scoffed, batting his hand away in annoyance. "You'll be the first pint-sized Pokemon Master."

"Ha!" he crowed in response, jumping up and pointing at her with a glint in his eyes that spelled victory. "So you _do _think I'll be a Pokemon Master! You said it! Ouch!" Ash clamped a hand over his ear, which was now throbbing where Misty had smacked him. "What did you do _that _for?"

"Because you dared to try and twist my insult into a compliment," Misty responded with a sweetness that certainly didn't match the strength of her backhand. "You know how much I hate that."

Ash rubbed his ear, put-off. "That really hurt," he complained, aware of the fact that he was whining.

"You should kiss it and make it better, Misty," Brock snickered, but he paled and held his hands up in surrender when Misty picked up the now-empty pan that Brock had used to cook their dinner, holding it from the handle like a baseball bat, her eyes bright with anger. "I'm kidding! Kidding! Just a joke! Hehe…" He breathed a sigh of relief when Misty lowered her deadly weapon, although she maintained a glare as powerful as any Arbok's attack.

"How come _he _gets a warning?" Ash exclaimed, offended by this obvious show of favoritism.

"Because he cooks our meals and is a little less annoying than you are," Misty shot back, quick as a whip.

Brock looked affronted. "Only a little?"

"Hey!" Ash exclaimed. Why had he longed for the 'good old days' again? He had forgotten that those days had often consisted of Misty and Brock ganging up on him! It simply wasn't fair!

And okay, sometimes he and Brock ganged up on Misty, or he and Misty ganged up on Brock—it was the nature of a three-person group—but somehow, it always felt most unfair when they were making fun of him.

Maybe because he could never think of a good comeback and so was entirely at their mercy.

Brock seemed to take pity, and he stopped teasing Ash and instead turned to his own dinner. "We should call it an early night tonight," he commented lightly, and Misty sat back down, looking strangely disappointed that the argument was over. But then, Ash wasn't surprised. Misty liked having excuses to hit people. Especially him.

The banter had made the evening seem shockingly normal, and it wasn't until the three had crawled into their sleeping bags for the night, going to sleep early as Brock had suggested, with Pikachu curled up near Ash's head and Togepi tucked into Misty's sleeping bag, that the odd happenings of the day swam back to the forefront of Ash's mind.

He placed his hands behind his head, the image of Misty walking blithely towards the edge of the ravine, oblivious to him as he called out her name. Fear had followed initial confusion, and he had ran, the blood pounding in his ears, still calling her.

There had been something terribly frightening of calling to Misty as she walked away from him, towards danger, and knowing that his cries fell on deaf ears. It had felt like some terrible dream, where no one could see him or hear him or he was glued to the spot and he was helpless. Only the sharp running cramp that had started in his side throbbed powerfully enough to remind him that it wasn't a dream at all, but terrifying reality.

What had she been _doing_?

And that had been the strangest thing—she hadn't even seemed aware herself of what exactly she was doing. In fact, that had been the very question she had asked him when he had finally caught up to her and stopped her—_'What are you doing?' _As though he were somehow bothering or interrupting her, instead of _saving _her, which was, in fact, what he had done.

And then she had seemed almost ashamed as she had been recalled to herself, and yet she had still seemed to have no idea as to why she had been heading straight for that cliff to the raging river below.

Because Misty was a good swimmer, but she wasn't _that _good, and certainly there would have been better places available if she were in the mood for a leisurely dip.

He had promised—well, sort of promised, a silent promise—Misty that he wouldn't tell Brock about what had happened, but he himself didn't have any of the answers that he wanted.

Well, Brock was sleeping now. And so was Misty, but Ash thought he had a right to know what had happened this afternoon and therefore he felt no guilt in entertaining the thought of waking her up right now and demanding an explanation.

Okay, maybe not demanding. Demanding things of Misty usually had a very negative consequence.

But he could ask. Asking was safer.

"Misty?" Ash hissed quietly, trying carefully to not wake Brock. Unfortunately, however, he seemed to be speaking _too _quietly, because Misty didn't even stir from her slumber. He twisted his head at an odd angle so that he could see her, and there she was, still snoozing away as though she didn't have a care in the world.

He rolled over onto his stomach, reaching out of his sleeping bag and flailing wildly, trying to tap Misty's shoulder or back. "Miiiiisty…" he tried to call a little bit louder, while still maintaining a respectably quiet tone. He stretched his fingers, trying to touch her in order to shake her and rouse her from her sleep, but she was out of his reach.

What was not out of his reach, however, was Pikachu's tail. Ash's unlucky stars were in alignment and his hand thumped unwittingly down on the electric Pokemon's lightning bolt shaped tail, immediately causing Pikachu to awaken and instinctively attack with a powerful Thunderbolt.

Despite being the victim of Pikachu's electric attacks many, many, _many _times, Ash would never get used to it. What was surprising, however, was the fact that his yells of pain still didn't cause Misty (or Brock, for that matter) to awaken.

Only a very guilty-looking electric mouse.

Ash coughed, falling face forward back onto his sleeping bag, his singed face buried in his pillow. His arms rested rigid by his head, and he closed his eyes, in too much pain to try and move.

"Pika, Pikachu…" Pikachu said nervously, taking a few steps over to Ash and blinking down at his trainer. He twitched his tail as though in protest. "Pika pi!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ash croaked, coughing again, waiting for the stinging that had settled on every nerve of his body to subside. "I know, I touched your tail."

"Pika," Pikachu offered, patting the back of Ash's dark head comfortingly.

"Yeah, I know you're sorry. Go back to sleep, Pikachu," Ash grumbled, finally summoning the energy to tip his face back up and look over at Misty and Brock, still fast asleep. "I can't believe they didn't even wake up!" he exclaimed, almost insulted.

And, for some ungodly reason, _this _exclamation was what caused Misty to stir. Not his calls from before, and not his screams as Pikachu had unleashed a Thunderbolt, but _this_.

She opened her eyes sleepily, and even in her tired haze she was able to glare at him. "Would you be quiet?" she muttered, still half-asleep, Togepi tucked under her arm. "I'm _trying _to sleep." Then her eyes widened as she noticed Ash's current burnt state. "What happened to _you_?"

"Pikachu happened to me," Ash replied, glancing over at the Pokemon, already on his way back to sleep now that the disturbance had passed, knowing that no further explanation was needed. He managed to summon the energy to climb out of his sleeping bag and crawl the few feet that separated him from Misty. "I was trying to wake you up."

"Why?" she replied, obviously annoyed, not bothering to sit up but rather simply staring up at him from her comfortable position.

He plopped down on his behind, crossing his legs and wiping the remaining soots from his face. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, I'd rather talk in a couple of hours, at a normal human time," Misty replied dryly.

"About what happened."

Immediately the annoyed look melted from her face, replaced by one of caution and worry. Ash knew that she understood what he had meant—her expression, clear in the bright moonlight, told him as much. Her eyes darted over to Brock, making sure that he was still fast asleep—which he was. "What happened," she echoed, and though it wasn't a question, he nodded in response.

"What were you doing?"

Her eyes left his and she gazed up at the dark sky, her hands resting on top of her stomach. She wrinkled her brow, her face screwed up in concentration as though she sought the answers from the sky itself. "I…I'm not really sure," she faltered, her voice soft and intimate. "There was…something…someone that…" she trailed off. "I don't really remember."

He leaned closer to her, planting his still stinging palms flat on the ground so that he could study her expression, trying to see if she were lying. "You don't _remember_?" he asked skeptically. "How can you not remember? You almost _jumped into the river_!" Maybe she thought he couldn't handle the truth. It was no secret that Misty didn't find him the most mature of people (though for what reason Ash was honestly clueless). The thought annoyed him and he glared at her, hoping the intensity of his gaze would cause her to tell the truth.

"Ssshh!" Misty hissed, her eyes widening in panic, her gaze quickly shooting over to Brock. Apparently his expression didn't have the effect he had desired. However, after all the noise that had already been made, Ash was pretty sure that it would take a nuclear explosion to awaken their companion, and Brock didn't stir from his sleep.

"He's not going to wake up," Ash grumbled, scowling at her. "So answer the question!"

"I don't know, Ash, okay?" Misty sat up so fast that Ash fell backwards onto his hands, surprised. "I don't _know_ what happened. It just…it made perfect sense at the _time_. It seemed like the right thing to do."

"The right thing to _do_?" Ash exclaimed in shock. "Walking off a cliff into the river seemed like the _right thing to do_?"

"No!" Misty snapped in response. "Of course not! I don't…" she sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "You don't understand." But her tone lacked her usual aggravation whenever Ash couldn't pick up on whatever she was implying. This time, she simply sounded tired and he almost felt guilty for waking her.

"Yeah, I don't," Ash admitted, tilting his head to better study her expression. This was one instance that he didn't mind admitting to Misty that he was a step or more behind.

Her eyes were serious, and Ash almost wished that she would make fun of him instead of look at him the way she was, as though she simply didn't know what to do or what to say. "It's all right," she said, her voice quiet as a whisper on the wind, carrying far from them. "I don't understand either."

Perhaps she meant it to be reassuring, but it sent a chill down his spine. .

When he didn't answer, she rolled over onto her side to face him, locks of red hair falling in her face, which was now obscured by shadow. "I wish I could explain," she offered, and a ghost of a smile flickered over Ash's face.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Me too." He stood back up, stretching out his back, which felt stiff from the electricity that had surged through his body. "Go back to sleep." His back made a rather nasty crack, and he winced.

It took long after he settled back into his sleeping bag, long after Misty's breathing evened out and fell into a pattern that ran together like a song with Brock and Pikachu and Togepi's soft sighs of sleep, for Ash to fall asleep. Images of Misty's face, blissfully unaware as she ran blindly off the trail flashed across his mind anytime he closed his eyes, and he often glanced over at her, safe and asleep in her own sleeping bag. Just to make sure that she was still there.

But eventually he must have fallen asleep, because he was roughly awaken by Brock's shaking him repeatedly, several hours later.

"Ash? Ash! Come on, get up _now_!" Brock's voice sounded far away, and Ash tried to bat him away and curl up tighter in order to sleep just a bit longer—it had taken him so long to fall asleep that he felt that he deserved that extra time—but Brock was persistent.

And now smaller hands were joining Brock's larger ones on Ash's shoulders and back, and Misty's voice was calling to him, too, urgent and panicked, and yet, he was too sleepy to really bring himself to care as to what was so important that he had to wake up right that moment.

"Go 'way," he mumbled, his voice muffled by his pillow. He flailed out his right arm, trying to bat away his intruding companions. "Sleepin'."

"Ash, you have to get up _now_!" Misty's voice was high in distress, but Ash groaned and buried his face further into his pillow, sleep far more tempting than finding out why his friends were so upset at the moment. "Fine! Pikachu, give Ash an electric alarm—"

"Fine, fine, I'm awake!" Ash exclaimed, cutting Misty off. His unwarranted attack from the night before was still fresh on his mind (and still hard on his muscles) and the last thing he wanted was a reprisal.

Irritation ran through his veins when he opened his eyes and saw that it was still dark out—no wonder he felt as though he had gotten no sleep at all. Was this Misty's revenge for waking her up? Forcing him to rise before the sun even came up? Ash knew that Brock had suggested an early start, but this was beyond ridiculous.

"Are you guys nuts?" he snapped, sitting up and rubbing his eyes blearily. "It's still dark out!"

"I know," Brock replied somberly. "That's what's wrong."

"Huh?" Ash replied, his mind fuzzy with sleep.

"It's eight in the morning," Brock said, his voice hushed as though he were relying a secret. Ash shifted his gaze from Brock's tense expression to Misty's big, worried eyes. She clutched Togepi like a life preserver, and Ash cracked a smile.

"Haha, very funny, guys," he replied, but the smile faded when he saw that neither Brock nor Misty seemed to be relenting. "But it can't be morning," he pointed out, rather reasonably in his opinion. "It's still dark out!"

"Yes, we realized that, Ash," Misty replied, irritation lacing the worry in her voice. "That's our _point_. The eclipse…it just…it didn't _end_."

Ash gave Misty and Brock a skeptical look, his eyebrows knit together. "It's _really _eight in the morning?" he tried to confirm, but the only answer he received was a hard tug on each of his arms, the right one in Misty's grasp and the left on in Brock's, as his friends hauled him to his feet. He tripped over the opening of his sleeping bag, the zipper getting caught between his big toe and second toe.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, trying to pull away from the death grips that Misty and Brock currently had on him as they pulled him away from precious slumber without mercy. "Okay, I'm up, jeez!"

"Hurry up and get dressed," Misty snapped the order, and Brock tossed Ash's backpack at him. He instinctively caught it, holding it to his stomach. He watched them move around in harried mayhem, packing up their belongings, rolling up their sleeping bags. Even Pikachu seemed to have noticed the urgency of the situation, and he was attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to roll up Ash's sleeping bag.

"Where are we going?" he blurted out, the first question he could think of asking. _Why is this happening_? or _what's going on_? didn't seem appropriate to ask of Brock or Misty, since he doubted, judging by their anxiety, that they had any better idea than he did.

"To Cerulean City," Brock answered shortly, going over to help Pikachu with Ash's sleeping bag since Ash himself seemed to be rooted to the spot.

"Still to Cerulean?" he repeated blankly. Somehow, he had thought that the fact, that, oh, _the sun hadn't come up_ would have changed their plans. But it seemed as though Misty and Brock were pressing ahead, although, admittedly, more frantically than before.

"Well, Ash, if you wanted to stay out here in the middle of nowhere, we could go for that instead," Brock replied a bit sarcastically.

Misty, however, seemed far too serious to even respond sarcastically to Ash's cluelessness. "We have to get there," she said, and there was a certain hysteria to her voice. "We have to get there, I'm so afraid something bad is going to happen…"

"What's going to happen?" Ash echoed, as Misty approached him and pulled the backpack out of his hands. She dug through it, despite Ash's protests, and threw his customary jeans, black shirt, jacket, white socks and sneakers at him, shoving them into his arms and pushing him towards the edge of the woods, presumably where he was to go to change. "Misty! What's going to happen?"

"It's just like Samuel said!" she exclaimed, pushing his shoulder blades so that his bare feet skidded on the ground.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed as he caught his food on a rock. "Watch it, Misty!"

"Go get dressed!" Misty cried out, giving him a final shove. "We have to leave as soon as possible! My sisters could be in trouble!"

He turned around to face her, about to open his mouth to protest once more, or at least demand further explanation. She grabbed his wrists, as though to stop him before the words could tumble from his mouth. "I'll explain later," she promised quickly, and her eyes, so wide and frantic and pleading, searched his. "Just trust me on this one, okay, Ash?"

He hesitated, and her grip on his wrists tightened, as though she were trying to steel him. And really, hadn't Brock and Misty followed along on some of his more hare-brained schemes? At this point, trust was all they really had. "Right," he agreed, and Misty released his wrists. He rubbed them a bit—she certainly was anxious if the intensity of her grip was any indication—and then retreated into the woods to duck behind a tree and change while Misty and Brock finished packing up their camp area in record time.

Ash barely had time to grab his hat and gloves from his bag and pull them on before Misty was plunging ahead, leading the way into the tunnel that cut through Mt. Moon. She wasn't running, exactly—even Misty wasn't crazy enough to think that she could run all the way to Cerulean—but nor was she taking her time to stop and enjoy the scenery.

Brock, for his part, seemed to be matching Misty's stride, leaving Ash to hurry in order to keep up. He supposed that the strange events that had occurred over the last few days, followed by the destruction of the Pewter City Gym, and now the continued darkness as the moon still eclipsed the sun, had swayed Brock to Misty's way of thinking that there was something, something big and something terrible, going on.

Even Ash couldn't really deny it at this point, although he didn't have the time or energy to try and think of what could possibly be happening. All his energy and focus was being spent keeping up with his companions. He envied Pikachu's cushy position on his shoulder. Too bad someone couldn't carry _him_…Brock was a candidate, what if Ash simply ran up to Brock and jumped up on his back?

Well, if he was being honest Brock would probably fall down and then hit Ash upside the head.

Eventually Ash whined enough that Misty allowed them to stop briefly for lunch, if only to shut him up. He had needed at least a couple of minutes to sit and rest his throbbing feet and legs. He had forgotten what it was like to simply _walk _from destination to destination, all day, every day. He was so used to Lapras ferrying them from island to island that the effort required to travel from one Kanto city to another was a shock to the system. Even more pressing than his aching joints was the persistent sounds his stomach was making—Misty hadn't even let him have breakfast before they had started off several hours before.

It was odd, sitting down on a large boulder by the side of the road and opening their lunches while the moon shone overhead and the world was cast in darkness. Ash, always the trainer, tried to keep alert for any interesting Pokemon that might only come out at night, but strangely enough not a single Pokemon, not even a Rattata, crossed their path.

"We're probably only a couple of hours outside of Cerulean," Brock mused, glancing down the darkened road.

"We should be there before night," Ash couldn't help but snicker, and then added, "Ow! Hey!" when Misty whalloped him on the back of his head hard with the flat of her palm. The brim of his hat fell over his eyes, and he fussily reached up to adjust it.

"Can't you take anything seriously?" she seethed.

"Oh, I forgot, I'm supposed to panic attack my way to Cerulean City," he replied sarcastically, taking a sullen bite out of his sandwich.

"I didn't say _that_," Misty's voice rose in volume, and out of the corner of his eye Ash could see her tighten her fists. "I just had hoped that you might have gotten it through your big, thick skull that this is a _serious _situation!"

"Serious situation?" he retorted. "You don't even know what's going on! You don't even _know _that it's serious! You don't know _anything _yet!"

"I know more than you do!" Misty was out and out yelling now, and Ash bristled.

"You do not!" he responded instinctively.

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Okay, we really don't have the time for this," Brock interjected irritably, his usual patience gone. He crumpled the bag he had put their lunches in and shoved it back into his backpack. "God, if you two have to fight all the time, can you try and make them a little more interesting? You're like a ping-pong match."

Misty set her mouth in a tight line, and turned her face from Ash. He rolled his eyes.

Brock rolled his eyes, jumping to his feet. "Come on, let's just get back on the road. We're probably only a few hours outside of Cerulean."

"My feet hurt," Ash grumbled, hesitantly getting back on his feet. The ketchup packets that Pikachu had used for his lunch and then left on Ash's lap fell to the ground, and, still in an annoyed mood, Ash swiped them up off the ground with a scowl on his face.

"Ash, this is my _family_," Misty exclaimed suddenly, turning back to him, her hands spread wide in both a gesture of frustration and a plea for understanding. "I know I fight with them, but they're still my sisters. And maybe you're right and nothing big is going to happen, but chances are, something is very wrong. And they're my _family_."

He tried to stave off the wave of guilt that washed over him, but it was no use. He dropped his head, feeling his cheeks flush a bit in shame. He hated being wrong, _hated _being wrong, but in this instance, Misty was right. His feet hurt and he was tired and hadn't slept well the night before, but this was Misty's family, and even if she was worrying for nothing, she was still worrying and he shouldn't try to make her worse. And if their positions had been reserved, and Ash had been worried about his mother, he knew that Misty wouldn't complain and would instead try to reassure him. He pulled his cap down further over his head in order to shield the look of guilt in his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled, still looking down at the ground, kicking a pebble while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'll shut up."

And Ash managed to keep any complaints about his sore toes or screaming legs to himself as they walked the rest of the way to Cerulean City. He supposed he owed that much to Misty, who had followed him relentlessly from city to city, region to region.

He wasn't exactly sure why she stayed with him so loyally, because at this point he was pretty sure a bike wasn't _really _the reason. He also wasn't exacty sure when she had changed over from being that annoying girl who was following him everywhere—practically stalking him—and instead become his best friend.

He could practically feel Misty stiffen as they entered Cerulean City, the tension in her body and the sharpness of her gaze as she kept her eye out for—well, for what he wasn't exactly sure. She still didn't run, but her eyes remained steadily forward and her pace quickened the closer and closer they got to the gym. To Misty's home.

When they reached the long winded pathway that led up to the Cerulean City Gym, Misty finally broke into the run that Ash knew she had been longing to run since they had entered Mt. Moon early that morning (could it be called morning if the sun hadn't come up?). Her footsteps echoed off the pavement as she approached the large doors, and Ash and Brock hurried their pace in order to catch up with her as she flung the door wide open.

"Lily? Daisy? Violet?" Misty's voice echoed off of the tiled floor of the main entrance hall. A poster for the latest water ballet—an underwater version of Sleeping Beauty—was plastered on the wall behind the counter. Misty turned in a dizzy circle, searching for her sisters. "One of them is usually behind the desk," she said, eyeing the empty counter with unease. "They have to be there for when trainers come in."

"Maybe they're having a show," Brock pointed out, gesturing to the poster, and Misty brightened at the suggestion. "Or they're practicing in the pool."

"You're probably right," she admitted, and she adjusted her backpack over her shoulder and tightened her grip on Togepi before taking off and yanking open the heavy door that led into the battle arena, which doubled as the stage of the ballets of the Sensational Sisters of Cerulean City.

But the arena was empty, devoid of trainers or spectators or any of Misty's sisters, and Misty's voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Daisy! Violet! Lily!" she cried, an edge of panic settling in her tone. "Where are you guys?"

"Calm down," Brock counseled, his voice soothing as he laid a hand on Misty's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "They could be anywhere. Here, I'll go check the back halls, where the aquariums are, and you can—"

But Brock didn't have the chance to finish his sentence, because just then Misty's sisters pushed open the door that separated the conference room from the battle arena, happy and carefree and just as beautiful as always, laughing and chattering amongst themselves as they filed out. Although their mood would normally set Misty on edge, today she brightened.

"Daisy! Lily! Violet!" she called, the anxiety still obvious in her voice, and her sisters looked up.

"Misty?" Daisy responded quizzically, a confused expression marring her pretty features. "Like, what are you doing here?"

Misty's sneakers squeaked on the damp tile as she ran over to her sisters, quite out of breath at this point. She stopped a foot short of them and took a moment to compose herself, to drink in the sight of her sisters, fine and healthy and maybe she _did _worry for nothing…before answering. "There's something weird going on," she started hesitantly. "Have you looked outside?"

"I _know_, it's still dark, right?" Violet replied, her eyes wide with wonder.

"I wanted to make sure you guys were okay," Misty said by way of explanation, though she said it reluctantly and a bit sourly. Despite what her true feelings towards her sisters might be, they were still irritating and she didn't want them to think that she found them anything but, or that she was still somehow seeking their approval the way she had when she had been a little girl.

"What do you mean?" Violet asked, tilting her head as though this would give her better insight into Misty's thought process. "Why wouldn't we be okay?"

"Somebody destroyed the Pewter City Gym a couple of days ago," Misty replied, lowering her voice as though afraid that the walls had ears and could overhear her. "And this man, he told me something that made me worry that something might happen here, too…"

The three Sensational Sisters seemed mildly offended by this, and they faced Misty like a firing line, their hands on their hips.

"So, what, you like thought you'd come to, like, protect us or something? That we couldn't handle ourselves" Daisy demanded.

"We are _just _as good of trainers as _you _are!" Lily exclaimed, now pointing a finger at her younger sister.

"That's not what I'm saying!" Misty protested, irritated at the misunderstanding. "Excuse me for wanting to make sure that my home and my family weren't destroyed!"

"Yes, it is," Violet accused. "You think we're hopeless and we need your help! We don't _need _you, Misty! We can take care of, like, our_selves_, thank you very much!"

"Cut her a break," Ash blurted out, speaking out despite himself. Three against one simply wasn't fair, and Brock seemed too stunned speechless by the beautiful sisters to speak up on their friend's behalf. "She's been worried sick about you guys!" And she had been, and driven them all crazy in the process, but at the moment it was easy to forget how irritating Misty had been in her persistence to getting to Cerulean City, and instead focus on the unfair backlash she was receiving for her worry.

Daisy opened her mouth to respond, and to probably unleash another verbal attack on Misty, for thinking her sisters so incompetent that they would need their baby sisters to rescue them, or perhaps this time on Ash, for daring to defend Misty. But what Daisy planned on saying would never be known.

Because at that moment, the far wall of the Cerulean City Gym exploded.

Screaming was instinctive. No one had been hurt; the wall that had exploded had been on the other side of the pool, opposite the bleachers that were supposed to be filled with eager spectators in a few days time. Debris scattered the far tile and fell into the pool but the group was only coated with a fine layer of dust and soot and splashed by water that shot up from the pool when a large chuck of plaster hit the surface of the pool. But they still yelled, shouts of shock and disbelief ripping from their throats as they ducked for cover, searching for an assailant that they could not yet see.

Daisy and Violet and Lily cowered together, a tangle of arms and legs and screams for mercy, while Ash and Misty had concerned themselves more with their Pokemon, Ash flinging himself to the ground to open his arms wide, his back to the explosion, in order to block Pikachu from any harm, while Misty turned her back to the destroyed wall, hunched over and curled inward in order to protect Togepi. Brock, his Pokemon safe away in their Pokeballs, had settled for flinging his arm up in order to protect his eyes from any wayward debris, his teeth gritted against a cry of shock and surprise.

The silence that immediately followed the explosion was terrible, because they knew that it could only be temporary.

And it was, because then the front wall, near the conference room that Misty's sisters had so recently left, was the next to come in, blown apart by some as of now unseen force, and a lump rose in Ash's throat as he realized that had Misty's sisters remained in that room for a moment longer, it might have been a moment too late.

"Let's get out of here!" he managed to shout over the groan of structure giving way, and he scooped up Pikachu, shooing the shocked group towards the exit. Maybe he wasn't the quickest on the uptake, but Ash was usually able to keep a cool head in a stressful situation, and if this didn't count for a stressful situation, well, he didn't know what _would_.

"Saur…"

Ash froze, his feet skidding to a stop and his heart catching his throat. _A Pokemon_. Could it be that a Pokemon was behind this all? Or was it a Pokemon in trouble, one that needed to be rescued before the rest of the gym fell apart, just as the Pewter City Gym had done before?

He whirled around, and found himself staring in shock at a Venasaur that made its way, quite untroubled by the destruction, through the now gaping wall of the gym.

"Ash!" he heard Misty cry from a few feet behind him. "What are you doing?" Her hands landed on his arm, tugging, pulling, but he wouldn't relent, not from his usual stubbornness, but from a desire to get to the bottom of this disaster before it happened to another gym.

"It's a Venasaur!" he exclaimed, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline, the speeding of his heart that always proceeded a Pokemon battle. "It's a _Pokemon_!" His hand instinctively went to his belt, but he paused, waiting, thinking.

"You think a Pokemon is behind this?" Brock yelled over the cracking of the high diving board. The wood split, the ladder clattering uselessly to the ground and the front half of the board falling forward to crash into the water.

"No way!" Misty cried in disbelief, and Ash was inclined to agree with her. Venasaur was a strong Pokemon, that much was for certain, but there was no way that it alone could cause the crumble of both the gym at Pewter and now at Cerulean. Besides, why would a Venasaur want to destroy gyms in the first place? The pieces of the puzzle didn't add up…a Venasaur wouldn't attack a gym…

…Unless directed to do so by a trainer.

The thought occurred to him as suddenly as the appeared, when the trainer of this Venasaur climbed through the hole in the wall. She was flanked on either side by a Charizard and a Alakazam, and they joined the Venasaur in continuing the ransacking of the gym, burning bleachers and knocking over the remainder of the high dive.

She was tiny, a child, maybe six or seven at the most. But what was more shocking was that Ash realized, upon glancing at her neat little dress and the bright orange-red hair tied back with a ribbon, was that he had seen her before. She was the child, the little girl he had seen in the rubble of Pewter City.

He had thought that she had been a little girl separated from her mother, curious to a fault. He hadn't thought of her as the cause of the destruction.

No longer did she seem almost other-worldly, to float on air. No, now she seemed as solid and firm as any other young child would be, and her dress snagged on a splintered piece of wood. She ignored it and let it pull a hole through her dress, and seeing her close-up Ash realized that he had been wrong in assuming that she had Misty's blue-green eyes. Her eyes were far too cold to be Misty's, a cold blue-gray that reminded Ash of granite and stone—unyielding and unforgiving.

Misty ducked as the bleachers came flying from the wall, and both she and Brock laid a hand on one of Ash's shoulders to bring him down to the floor with them, as he had been frozen by his surprise.

"That's the little girl!" he exclaimed, watching with wide eyes as she neatly took a seat on the half-destroyed far wall, watching with mild interest as her Pokemon tore apart the gym, her hands folded sweetly in her lap. "The little girl I saw in Pewter!"

"Tell her to stop!" Daisy wailed, huddled against the door with Lily and Violet, using their baby sister's protection though they had been so intent that they hadn't needed it at all. Ash couldn't blame them though—he doubted situations such as this came in the job description for a gym leader.

"Well, her Pokemon are destroying my gym!" Misty yelled, and suddenly she was back on her feet, her hands at her backpack, placing Togepi inside and withdrawing a Pokeball at the same time. She enlarged it so that it fit comfortably in her palm. "Go, Staryu!"

Ash was only a few seconds behind her, leaping back up into a fighting stance, reaching for his belt and grabbing the Pokeball containing Squirtle. "Squirtle, Pikachu, I choose you!"

"Pika!" Pikachu bravely stepped forward at the same time that Squirtle was released from his Pokeball, the two joining Staryu in attempting to engage Pokemon much larger, much more powerful, and much more dangerous in battle.

"Pikachu, add your Thunderbolt to Squirtle's Water Gun and aim it at the Charizard!" Ash exclaimed, immediately thinking that this was a situation that called for brawn over brains. His Pokemon obeyed, Pikachu unleashing a powerful attack that wound around the strong stream of water, electric currents coiling like a snake about to strike. They hit the Charizard right in the back, and it roared in pain, whipping around to face its adversaries.

The little girl sitting on the rubble simply giggled and pointed her finger, issuing no vocal command. But it seemed that none was needed, as the Charizard immediately unleashed a Flamethrower that Ash knew, just by looking, would put his own Charizard's to shame.

"Squirtle, Withdraw! Pikachu, duck behind Squirtle!" he cried, hoping to save his Pokemon from the attack. Squirtle obeyed and retreated into his shell, and Pikachu used the shell as a shield against the powerful flames.

The idea sort of worked—Squirtle's shell couldn't withstand the heat, and he popped back out, collapsing in exhaustion to the ground. Ash hissed under his breath—the Flamethrower had been strong enough to penetrate Squirtle's thick shell. "That's okay, Squirtle," he called, despite the sick feeling in his stomach that told him that they were all in trouble. "You did great! Return!" In a jet of light, Squirtle was brought back into the Pokeball.

But Pikachu had been protected, and his cheeks sparked threateningly, ready to defend his fellow fallen Pokemon as well as his trainer and all his friends. "Pikachu, use your most powerful Thunder attack!" Ash ordered. "Bounce it off the water in the pool!"

"Pi…ka…_CHU_!" Pikachu's battle cry filled the room and filled Ash with hope as the room exploded with electricity.

The little girl's laughter echoed all around, drowning out Pikachu's yell, and Alakazam joined Charizard in facing the small electric Pokemon. Alakazam raised its hands, and a powerful forcefield seemed to expand, quick as a blink, in front of the two. Pikachu's electric attack bounced harmlessly off the shield, not damaging it in the slightest, and rebounded back on Pikachu.

"Pikachu!" Ash cried out in distress as Pikachu cried out in pain, the victim of his own power. He ran over to his fallen best friend, scooping him up in his arms. "Are you okay?" he asked, feeling a flutter of relief as Pikachu was able to manage a weak smile, despite his obvious beaten state.

"Onix, it's your turn!" Brock yelled, taking Pikachu's fall as his cue to jump into the fray. The enormous rock Pokemon erupted from its Pokeball, roaring in his might as he towered over the opposing Pokemon.

But size seemed to be no factor, as before Brock could even issue his first command, the little girl yawned as though in boredom, and Alakazam had lifted Onix high into the air, hurtling him in the direction of the pool that was now littered with half of the structure of the gym.

"No! Onix!" Brock yelled in panic, unbelieving that a Pokemon would go to such extremes to win a battle. But what could one expect, in such an unimaginable situation? "Onix, return!" Brock's quick reflexes managed to catch Onix mid-flight, before the large Pokemon hit the water that would cause it incredible pain.

"How can she be so powerful?" Ash murmured, more to himself as he didn't expect anyone to have an answer for him. "She's just a little girl!" It didn't make sense, that such a small child would have such powerful Pokemon and have them obey her. And not only did they obey her, they seemed to be able to read her mind, or maybe she could read theirs, because she didn't even have to issue a vocal command in order to win the battle. They were entirely at the mercy of her whim, as they had no way of determining what attack she may use next.

"It's up to me, now. Staryu, Bubblebeam!" Misty yelled, pointing a finger at the Venasaur that was currently using its vine whip to pull down the tiles of the ceiling, which came away with a loud crack and crashed into the water below. Dust had settled into Misty's hair like a fine powder, and she had a large scratch across her upper arm that Ash hadn't noticed before in the intensity of the battle. Soot smudged her cheeks, but she had fire in her eyes, and it set Ash at ease to see Misty ablaze.

Staryu obeyed, and the Venasaur regarded the Staryu with very mild interest, the water from the stream of bubbles not bothering it at all but rather taking it like a refreshing shower, before bringing his huge vines down on the star-shaped Pokemon, sending it flying towards one of the two remaining walls.

"Staryu! Watch out!" Misty exclaimed, throwing herself between her Pokemon and the inevitable impact. She gasped as Staryu slammed hard into her stomach, knocking her clear off her feet and sending her flying backwards into the wall, her grip tight around her beloved Pokemon, successfully saving it from what would have been a painful crash. She winced in pain, her back throbbing from the force of the hit. Her knees gave out from under her and she slid to the ground, her back sliding along the wall with paper that was now peeling from the heat of Charizard's blasts.

"Misty!" Daisy, Lily, and Violet squealed in unison, fear for their little sister overwhelming their desire to make themselves as unnoticeable as possible.

The Venasaur approached the fallen trainer with her Pokemon, raising its vines high in the sky. "Saur!" it roared powerfully, bringing them down in order to knock Misty aside, as one would push away a rag doll. Misty winced and bowed her head, curling inward in order to make herself a smaller target for the giant Pokemon.

"Stop!" Ash blurted out, and suddenly he was running towards the Venasaur, that blind protectiveness that he so often felt towards his friends, especially _Misty_, who had been with him since the very beginning, rearing its head again.

_I don't want anything to happen to you_.

Because didn't it always come back to that? He'd rather take it himself, rather be the one in trouble or in pain or in peril, than see his friends in the same situation. He couldn't be able to live with himself knowing that he could have done more, that he could have protected them or saved them. That he could have made it better.

His mother had tearfully told him, when he had come home to Pallet Town, after he had—they told him—saved the world, that he had a hero complex.

Maybe he did.

The vines stopped in their intended path and caught Ash in the stomach instead. He gasped in pain as they knocked the wind out of him, leaving him wheezing for breath as he was lifted into the air. They pushed him like insistent, powerful arms backwards through the air, and he closed his eyes fearfully as he freefell, unaware as to where he would be making his landing.

He dimly heard Misty cry out his name, and he wondered if this fall was going to be the one to do him in, and if Misty's fearful voice was going to be the last thing he ever heard.

Had he the breath to do so, he would have sighed with relief when his body crashed through the water of the pool. The softest landing he could have hoped for, now that he could move freely his hands instinctively went to his stomach, clutching it in pain as he sunk like a heavy stone.

His knees landed on the firm bottom of the pool, and he opened his eyes to see a piece of painted wood—part of the painted Dewgong that was the symbol of the gym—floating by him. It struck him with the power usually reserved for Pikachu's Thundershock attack—this gym was really in trouble, too, just like Pewter City. This little girl, whoever she was and whatever her agenda was, was _destroying gyms_. Destroying _homes_. Misty had been right all along, that something terrible was happening that they were right in the middle of. He may never admit it to her, but he should have listened to her.

At six, Ash had been playing with toy cars and stuffed Charizards.

He wouldn't have been able to even understand, much less carry out the destruction that was happening a mere few feet above his head. He still couldn't understand it, and was sure that he wouldn't be able to do something so terrible, and especially so effectively.

His breath caught, he pushed off the bottom of the pool, pumping viciously to break back through the surface. He wasn't the best swimmer, and his soaking jeans, jacket, and sneakers pulled him down like heavy weights strapped to his body. Eventually, however, his face broke through the water and he gasped loudly for breath.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes, as he blinked away chlorine and pushed away the wet hair that had flopped into his face, was the brilliant night sky that had worried Misty so much.

The roof of the Cerulean City Gym was gone.

But there was no time to dwell on this fact, though it shocked him to see another gym that he had competed in simply destroyed. But his friends needed him, and he had no time to sit and absorb the ruins around him. Quickly but clumsily, trying to keep his head above the water, Ash paddled to the edge of the pool, avoiding debris in the water, the only sound breaking the silence the splashes of his hands and feet and his ragged breathing echoing in his ear.

Wait.

The silence.

He froze with his hands on the lip of the pool, about to hoist himself out, and finally allowed himself a moment to take in what was happening around him. He had expected, of course, to still see his friends fighting hard, to see the fire and electric and water that accompanied a Pokemon battle, to hear the sounds of explosions and cries of defeat and victory…

But there was silence, and his friends, their Pokemon, Misty's sisters, as well as the intruder and _her _Pokemon, were nowhere to be seen. The smoldering remains of the diving board and the stands for spectators sizzled, giving off a strange odor and slight hissing sound, but other than that, Ash could hear or see nothing.

"Pikachu!" he blurted out, searching desperately for his most loyal Pokemon. "Pikachu, where are you?"

"Pika pi!" Pikachu scampered out from underneath the bleachers, which had half-collapsed against the mostly destroyed wall, causing a low canopy. Ash allowed himself a sigh of relief as he finally hoisted himself from the pool, his eyes alert for any danger.

"Pikachu!" he exclaimed, and the electric Pokemon leapt into his arms. "I'm so glad you're okay. But where's everyone else? Where are Misty and Brock? And Daisy and Lily and Violet?"

"Pika…" Pikachu said sadly, his ears drooping slightly as he shrugged in sad defeat, and Ash put him down as he rose to his feet, his sore muscles crying out in protest.

"Misty!" he yelled, cupping his gloved hands over his mouth and yelling to anyone who would hear him. "Misty! Brock! Where are you guys?"

There was no answer.

His cry was slightly more panicked now. "Brock! Misty! Daisy, Lily, Violet! This isn't funny, guys!" He turned in a dizzy circle, searching for his missing companions, hoping that they, like his Pokemon, would leap from a clever hiding spot. Of course it would not make everything better, but they could handle the destruction of the gym and that little girl—whoever she was and wherever she may be now—together.

"_Me, you, and Brock…we always seem to make it through. As long as we stick together, nothing will go wrong…" _

"Misty! Brock!" His voice echoed off of the half-destroyed walls and escaped through the open ceiling. "_Misty! Brock!_" His voice rose in volume, in panic, and he tore through the destroyed remains of the gym, searching for someone, _anyone_, anything to keep him from the horrible truth that chased him.

He had told Misty that they would be all right. He had told Misty that it would be okay, because as long as Ash and Misty and Brock were together, everything always ended up okay in the end.

As long as they were together, they could overcome anything.

"_Misty! MISTY! Brock!_"

Exhausted from the battle, weakened from the attack he had suffered from the Venasaur's vines, crippled by shock and a despair that crept over him as sneakily as the mood had taken over the sky, he fell to his knees. Stopped in his tracks, he was faced with the terrible reality that he now found himself in as Pikachu, the only one to hear his cries, ran up to him, a worried expression in his eyes and his ears turned downward in mourning.

Because Ash Ketchum was completely, utterly, undeniably…alone.

* * *

Whew! The battle scene took a lot of writing and rewriting—it's one of those scenes that I know would look great in an episode, but was hard to capture in words. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and please leave me some comments!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Chapter 7 is here! Again, I hope everyone will be patient while waiting for updates. I'm shooting for an update every 2-3 weeks, but as the semester goes on and work piles up that may not happen. But rest assured that I won't have forgotten about this fic!

I hope this chapter brings more reviews, because I KNOW I'm getting the hits. Thank you to those of you who have reviewed! Your reviews are always so excellent and indepth, and I love getting them.

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 7**

His fists rained down like a hailstorm onto the heavy glass door, which, he had discovered upon his insistent tugging, was locked. At the moment, however, Ash didn't care if the glass shattered under his hands, as long as he received an answer to his knocks.

"Hello??" he shouted, not caring if no one could hear him through the thick glass. It at least made him feel as though he were trying to do something to fix this terrible mess. He pressed his hands and face against the glass, squinting in order to see through the relative darkness. "Is anyone there??"

He didn't stop pounding until long after he saw Officer Jenny appear on the opposite side. She scowled at his rudeness as she came over to the door and unlocked it, far too slowly for Ash's tastes. "What is it?" she demanded, opening the glass door and keeping it propped open with one white-gloved hand. "And it better be important, the way you were carrying on!"

"It is," Ash assured her, eyes passionate with his conviction. His clothes were still wet from the pool, and the denim of his jeans stuck unpleasantly to his legs, rubbing them raw. His sneakers squished and oozed water with every step that he took, and his jacket still dribbled from the bottom so that the pavement around where he stood was damp at this point. He had run straight from the gym to the police department and if he looked back he would be able to see wet footprints marking the trail that he had traveled. Never graceful, there was a hole in the knee of his pants where he had tripped and fallen and torn them.

"Well?" Officer Jenny prompted, resting her free hand on her hip and arching a perfect eyebrow. If he had been here, Ash was sure that Brock would be spewing some corny phrase aimed to impress that would fall terribly, terribly flat. The thought brought a pang of pain to his heart, because Brock _wasn't _there, and could be anywhere. And at the moment Ash would give anything to have to listen to Brock's corny pick-up lines aimed at every attractive woman in a five mile radius.

"The gym's been destroyed," he blurted out, pointing back down the path to the gym that was currently out of sight, as though his finger would allow the officer to see the damage that had been done. "A little girl used her Pokemon to attack the gym and she brought it to the ground!"

Officer Jenny eyed him critically, as though trying to tell if he were pulling one over on her. "A little girl?" she repeated skeptically. "You expect me to believe some little girl destroyed the Cerulean Gym?"

A spark of anger ignited somewhere around his stomach, and Ash gritted his teeth. The _last _thing he needed was another Officer Jenny assuming he was crazy. They never seemed to believe him whenever he needed them the most. "Listen, there's been a really big accident, and you need to get to the gym as soon as possible!" he barked, and Officer Jenny took a step backwards in shock at his tone.

"Well!" she said a bit haughtily. "I don't appreciate your tone, young man!"

"My friends are gone!" he blurted out, the thought turning and turning in his head and finally ripping from his mouth. "The four leaders of the gym—Misty, Violet, Daisy, and Lily—and my friend Brock—he was the leader of the Pewter City Gym and there was a similar explosion there a couple of days ago. And now they're all _gone_!" He was aware that he probably sounded slightly insane, but there was no other way to put the impossible, unexplainable truth.

Now Officer Jenny looked alarmed. "They're gone, you say?" Finally she pushed open the door enough so that Ash could enter if he so chose. Even the Officer Jennys who seemed to never believe Ash when he came to them wouldn't ignore him if he said someone—or in this case, a number of some_ones_ were in trouble—and this one seemed to be no exception. Ash took a cautious step forward, preparing to enter the station house.However, the police officer seemed to have another idea, for she reached for the whistle that dangled around her neck and blew it shrilly.

A mere few moments later, her staff of policemen were pounding through the door, Ash taking a few shocked and stumbling steps backwards in order to clear the way. They hurried like a swarm towards the garage and suddenly the air was filled with the roar of motorcycle engines revving to life.

"Come on," Officer Jenny said, laying a firm hand on Ash's wrist. "Come with me and explain what happened on the way."

This Officer Jenny seemed more willing to accept Ash's explanations than other Officer Jennys had been in the past. However, Ash supposed that a big part of this was due to the continuation of the eclipse, and the fact that now not only Ash, but all of Kanto had to admit that there was something strange going on.

He was still surprised by her willingness to take him for his word as they sped along the path back to the gym, as Ash tried to explain the battle and the little girl and things that he didn't even understand, like why the sun hadn't come up today.

He finished his story with the sudden disappearance of Brock, Misty, and Misty's three sisters, and then he fell silent as they pulled up to what had once been the Cerulean City Gym.

"Pikapi…" Pikachu breathed, a sort of horrified awe, from atop Ash's hat, and Ash, too, could only stare silently with a heavy heart. When he had left the gym, he hadn't bothered looking back, only focusing on moving forward and getting help as fast as he could, and now, faced with yet another ruined gym, it felt like a heavy despairing hand pressing him down and stealing his breath.

The Dewgong sign had been cracked in half and fallen from its perch, the pillars that held up the overhang had all crumbled. He dimly recalled opening his eyes and seeing part of that very sign floating past him in the once immaculately kept pool. As Ash knew, the roof and east and north walls had been completely blown out, and the two remaining walls were badly damaged. It was no longer a Pokemon gym.

It was a disaster site.

Officer Jenny stopped her motorcycle and Ash hopped off the back of the bike, taking a few tentative steps towards the building as the police force swarmed the place, just as they had Pewter City.

"Hold it!" Officer Jenny said, her voice brisk and commanding as she caught Ash's arm. "You aren't going anywhere. That structure is completely unsound at this point! It could collapse the rest of the way at any minute!"

"But my friends!" Ash protested, trying to struggle away from her grip with all his might. Pikachu had leapt down from Ash's hat and was joining the effort, tugging Ash's pant leg in the opposite direction, trying to help him break free. "We need to figure out what happened to them!"

Officer Jenny hesitated, words upon her lips that she obviously was afraid to say. Her grip remained firm upon Ash's arm but her voice was softer, gentler, as though she were testing the waters. "Do you think…" she started, pressing her lips together as she tried to think of the best way to phrase her thoughts. "I mean, the gym is destroyed…the walls and the ceiling came down…is it possible that they…"

She trailed off, but there was no need for her to complete her thought. Her meaning hit Ash in the stomach like a sucker punch, and he was glad that Officer Jenny had his arm in almost vice-grip, because he was certain if she didn't he would fall to the ground. "No," he said vehemently. "No, they're not _dead_."

The word fell from his lips with the venom of spitting out poison, and he felt a tightening in his chest like a hand squeezing his heart. Officer Jenny seemed taken aback by his angry tone, but, well, he was angry at the suggestion! Yes, the ceiling had caved in while he had been pushed into the pool, but certainly water alone wouldn't have protected him if the impact had been _that _terrible. And he would have _seen _them, and he had looked everywhere and with the exception of Pikachu and his Pokemon safe in their Pokeballs, he had most certainly been alone.

He didn't want to think terrible things like that, that they could be gone _forever_. They were simply missing—Brock, Misty, her sisters—they were gone somewhere but they would be back. They would be back, if only he could find out what happened to them in the first place. They would have to be back, because Ash wasn't sure what he would do without Misty and Brock. Sure, Brock had left them to study with Professor Ivy, but he had always been _there_, in the background, waiting, always within reach. He had been gone but not really, and Misty…

Misty had always been there. How was he supposed to go on without Misty? When he didn't know where she was, or how she was?

Hot tears prickled at the edges of his eyes, and, embarrassed, he viciously pulled the brim of his cap down to hide his face. He blinked rapidly in order to clear his vision before anyone, including Pikachu, could notice the moment of weakness, and he trusted the darkness around them to shield the fact that his eyes were red.

'Missing' was almost a foreign emotion to Ash. He hadn't missed Brock when Brock had been gone, he hadn't missed Tracey when they had left Pallet Town without him, and hell, he only occasionally missed his mother while he was traveling. It wasn't that he didn't care about them, it was simply the fact that he knew that they would be there when he returned. Sure, their lives would go on and change but Ash would be lying if he said that he didn't imagine those he left behind as almost frozen in time, until his return, in which they would be illuminated with life once more. It was simply what he was used to at this point, and it was easiest when he left someone to put them out of his mind until the day he was reunited with them. It made things less messy, less painful.

But he missed Brock. And he missed Misty. Enough that it felt as though a heavy weight had settled on his shoulders and he remembered why he made an effort to not miss people in the first place.

But even leaving aside the unthinkable, where was he supposed to start in finding them? They could be anywhere, anywhere in the world, and he was only one person against a force that he didn't understand.

"What am I supposed to do now?" he murmured, his eyes narrowed as he gazed at the destroyed Cerulean Gym. Pikachu looked somberly up at him, offering not a peep of a suggestion.

Officer Jenny, however, laid a hand on his shoulder. "Go home," she told him, as gentle as a tone as she could manage. "There's nothing you can do now, and we'll be investigating. We'll find your friends. But for now, you should go home and stay safe. Don't get yourself mixed up in police business."

Go home. Go home, and leave it to the police.

He should have listened to Misty. Misty had wanted to tell him, had wanted to warn him of what was going on. But he had been so _tired_…and he hadn't wanted to hear what she had to say. He had thought, however foolish the thought might have been, that if he ignored what she knew and pretended that it didn't exist, the whole thing would go away.

And they could leave it to the police.

Misty and Brock, as well as Daisy and Lily and Violet, were all in trouble because he had insisted on closing his eyes and his ears and ignoring the darkness that had crept over them with the power of a roll of thunder. And now Officer Jenny was telling him to do more of the same—to go crying home and leave his friends to fend for themselves. To go home and hope that somehow, someway, the police would be able to figure out what was going on and find them, while Ash was warm and safe in his bed.

Ash Ketchum was stubborn, and he had stubbornly not listened to Misty. But he wasn't a coward. And he wasn't going to turn tail and run.

He wasn't going home. He was going to fix this.

It wasn't too late to listen to Misty, after all.

"Right," he said to Officer Jenny, only feeling a small pang of guilt and hoping that she bought him at face value. Lying had never been his greatest talent. "You're right. I'll go home. Do you think someone could give me a lift, though? I have a long way to go."

Officer Jenny looked a little surprised that he had agreed so quickly, but she nodded, planting her fisted hands on her hips. "I'm sure we can arrange something. Where are you from, anyway?"

Ash smiled. "Viridian. Right outside of the forest, actually."

* * *

"This is where you live?" The policeman who Officer Jenny had assigned to take Ash to Viridian glanced skeptically at the little cabin, tilting his head back so that he could see past the visor of his helmet. Ash could understand his confusion—even under the forgiving shadow of moonlight, Samuel's cabin looked as though it had been abandoned for years. In fact, in the dark it seemed to have an almost haunted aura about it, rather than simple want for care. The weeds that overgrew onto the cobblestones seemed like fingers grasping for purchase, and the missing planks of wood in the fence seemed like missing teeth in a grinning mouth, ready to swallow him whole.

Despite a moment of trepidation as he looked over at the small home, Ash climbed off the motorcycle, Pikachu safely in his arms. "Yeah, well, be it ever so humble, right? Hehe," he joked weakly. He adjusted his backpack over his shoulders and put Pikachu back down on the ground. "Thanks for the ride."

The engine of the motorcycle roared to life, the headlights flashing brightly enough that Ash had to shield his eyes with his hand. He watched the makeshift sunshine vanish down the dirt road, heading back towards civilization, away from this broken-down little cabin.

When he could no longer hear nor see the bike, he took a large breath and turned to face the rickety old gate. He pushed it open with a loud creak, and he cringed at the sound breaking through the silent night. Instinctively he glanced around as though expecting the small girl who was terrorizing them to appear from nowhere and bring him, too, to wherever his friends had been taken.

Well, at least he would be with them then. Although they would all be collectively screwed as no one else would know where to find them or even where to begin. Samuel's cottage would be the last place that Officer Jenny and her team would think to come to for clues, and frankly if Ash had even suggested it he was sure that he would have received the brush-off.

He quickly climbed the few stairs that led up to the front door, raising his hand and rapping firmly. He waited for a long moment before knocking again, receiving no answer. "Hello?" he called, glancing around nervously before putting his ear to the door in order to see if he could detect the sound of approaching footsteps. "Anyone home? Samuel?"

After a few minutes of furious knocking, and after circling the house to see if maybe Samuel was in the garden out back, Ash climbed the stairs once more, and, on a whim, turned the doorknob. To his immense surprise, it yielded under his grasp and he hesitated for only a moment before creaking the door open and slipping inside, allowing Pikachu to scamper in after him before he shut it once more as quietly as possible.

"Hello?" Ash called, more quietly now. He was trespassing, he knew, but what if something had happened to Samuel as well? And if nothing had happened, maybe he would be able to find some clue as to where the older man was and when he would be returning.

The interior of the house was cloaked in darkness, and Ash could only make out the outline of Pikachu as they moved cautiously into the living room, feet and paws sinking into the plush carpet that they had slept on a mere few days ago. It was hard to believe how much things had changed since then. "Anyone home?" Ash called feebly, not wanting to alarm Samuel if he was in fact in the house.

It ended up being Ash that was alarmed when something long and hard hit him in the pit of his stomach. He sputtered out a gasp for air, wheezing for breath and helpless as whatever had struck him pushed him, hard, against the opposing wall. His hands grasped his stomach in pain, and firm hands on his shoulder kept him from doubling over.

"Pikachu…" Ash rasped, still trying to catch his breath as whatever had hit his stomach pressed against his shoulders now, keeping him firmly in place against the wall. Exactly what he needed. Now he was about to go the way of Misty and Brock, and they would all be lost forever. None of them would ever be found, and, really, no one would probably notice them missing at all for a week or so, when Ash's mom got worried about the lack of a weekly phone call.

And that was if he was lucky. With his usual streak of luck, most likely he was going to die right here, right now.

"Pika! Pikapi!" Pikachu cried out in distress, unable to see as to where attack the unknown assailant. Finally, he seemed to settle for using his Thundershock attack to illuminate the room, and Ash found himself staring into Samuel's angry eyes.

"Um…hi," Ash croaked, for lack of anything else to say, and the pressure on his shoulders released. He sank down to his knees once he was free, clutching his stomach and leaning over so that his arms were pressed against his legs.

The dark living room was suddenly flooded with light as Samuel reached the switch and flipped it, and Ash squinted in the unexpected brightness. He could see, lying a few feet away from him, an abandoned mop, which had obviously been Samuel's weapon of choice.

"Jeez…" he wheezed, trying to sit up. Now that he was sure that he wasn't going to die, at least not right at this moment, the pain in his gut seemed to intensify. He fell back onto his behind, leaning back on his gloved hands and taking a deep breath.

"You crazy, trying to sneak up on me like that?" Samuel scolded, coming over to Ash and practically hauling him to his feet.

"Sneak up on you?" Ash protested. "I knocked at least five times!"

"Times like this, you think I'm gonna answer the door?" Samuel demanded gruffly.

"Well, yeah!" Ash replied, baffled. "I mean, how else would you know who's on the other side?"

"Sometimes it's better not knowing," he said gravelly, putting a heavy arm around Ash's shoulders and dragging him to his feet, and over to the small table that sat just outside the kitchen. "Here. Sit down. I'll get you a glass of water."

The hulking man lumbered about the kitchen, pouring the promised glass of water. Ash took the opportunity to catch his breath, allowing his speeding heart to return to a more normal pace. He touched the middle of his stomach where he had been hit and winced—there would definitely be a bruise there in the morning.

Or in the…continued night. Ash wasn't sure what to expect in the next few hours.

Samuel set the water down in front of Ash with a loud clunk, a bit splashing over the top and onto the water-stained table. He pulled out the chair opposite Ash and sat down, planting his large hands onto the table. "So, what are you doing back here?" He looked around, as though suddenly realizing something was missing. "Where's the other two who were with you?"

Ash looked down at his hands, at his well-worn green gloves, a feeling of shame washing over him like the tide. _They're not here because of me_. "That's actually why I came back," he admitted, and if he hadn't been staring at his hands he would have seen Samuel's eyes flash in recognition.

"Oh?" he asked, his voice deliberately light. "What do you mean?"

"They were…we were at…they're _gone_," Ash blurted out, for lack of a better way of putting it. "We were at the Cerulean Gym and they just…all disappeared. There was this little girl, and she…she did _something_. She ruined the entire gym! And all of my friends just…were gone." He studied his hands carefully as though they would provide the answers he was seeking. "Except for me," he added quietly.

"Pikachu!" Pikachu protested from Ash's side, and a small smile cracked across his weary face.

"And Pikachu," he corrected himself.

Samuel, to his credit, didn't seem as incredulous as Officer Jenny had been at the idea of a little girl causing such mayhem. In fact, when he echoed Ash, asking, "A little girl?" he sounded expectant rather than skeptical, as though he knew exactly what Ash was talking about. And after the day (night? What time was it?) he had had, Ash was relieved that maybe, someone had some idea of what was going on and how to make it right again.

"So," Samuel said quietly, pushing his chair back out with a loud scrape that caused Ash to wince. He stood back up, and Ash finally glanced up at the imposing figure that hovered over him. "It's begun, then."

"What's begun?" Ash asked, impatiently. It seemed that Samuel was insistent in always speaking in some sort of riddle, and Ash had never been good at riddles. He normally wouldn't even care to try and figure out what he was saying—he would have left it to Brock or Misty—but unfortunately that was not an option at this point.

Samuel held up a finger, motioning for Ash to wait for a moment. His heavy footsteps echoed off the floor as he headed back into the connected living room, towards a low bookcase that served as an end table besides the sofa. He crouched down, squinting and peering along the two rows of books, all which looked as though they had probably not been touched for quite some time.

After some rummaging, Samuel seemed to locate what he was looking for—an old thick book, the pages weathered and worn on the edges and yellowed with age, the deep purple cover faded and starting to peel. He put it down in front of Ash with care, and Ash, taking his cue from Samuel, used equal care in opening it, feeling the spine crack slightly from misuse as he turned the cover.

He balked as he was faced with small cursive penmanship, written with old ink that had dried and started to fade to a dusty, muted gray. His worst fears were confirmed as he carefully thumbed through the pages and saw that the writing went on through the majority of the book. "You expect me to _read _this?" he demanded of Samuel, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Typical kids," Samuel snorted. "Always expecting to have the answers handed to you."

"I do not!" Ash protested defensively. "But my friends are in trouble and I'd rather not be here for a _year_." He glanced down at the weathered old book in dismay. If Samuel had suggested a Pokemon battle in order to obtain information, Ash would have leapt at the opportunity. But reading this ridiculously long book?

Well, like he had told Samuel, he didn't have all _year_.

"Fine, fine!" Samuel grumbled, obviously put-off by Ash's lack of interest in the treasure that he had chosen to share. Jealously, he snatched the book back off the table, cradling it close like a child. He continued to grumble under his breath as he ran his fingers lovingly over the cover. "Bratty kids, no respect…"

"Look, can you just tell me what you're talking about?" Ash demanded, not bothering to correct Samuel this time. He could easily get into a sparring match with him about his supposed lack of respect but fighting didn't seem like a good idea with something so important on the line. Besides that, arguments he had with anyone else always seemed less entertaining and less satisfying than those that he had with Misty.

Samuel flung himself back into his chair with a scowl, seemingly disappointed that Ash seemed uninterested in the books he had been keeping safe for such a moment as this. He steepled his fingers, bowing his head for a long moment while Ash waited impatiently for him to speak. "I'm not sure you'll believe me," he said finally, looking up in order to give Ash a skeptical and almost suspicious look. "You never seemed as open as your little friend did. The girl."

Ash stiffened at this mention of Misty, and again wished that he had taken the time to listen to her. He was sure she would have been straight to the point as usual—as gushy and girly as Misty could be at times, she was like him in times of crisis and knew that time could not be wasted. "Listen, at this point? I'll probably believe just about anything," Ash assured Samuel through slightly gritted teeth and a slowly rising level of irritation.

"Fine," Samuel replied, moving his fingers to drum thoughtfully on the table. He regarded Ash carefully, as though trying to see how honest he had been in his words, before continuing, his words slow and deliberately chosen. "A long time ago, probably about…" he screwed up his face in thought now, "almost four hundred years ago, there was a Pokemon trainer by the name of Lucinda. Now, she didn't have the best life growing up," he interjected, raising a finger to make his point. "No family, you know. She lived in an orphanage and they weren't the nicest of places back then. Not that they are now, but back then…well, it was just a big ugly business. But that doesn't excuse how she turned out."

"How she turned out?" Ash echoed.

"Ruthless," Samuel confirmed, nodding his head to emphasize his point. His fingers curled instinctively into a fist on the table as he thought, his eyes glassy and distracted. "She wasn't supposed to get a Pokemon—kids without a parent to cosign their Pokemon license were out of luck back then—but she snuck in with the kids from the local town when the lab was giving them out. Ended up with a Charmander. Decided she was going to be the best Pokemon trainer in all the world."

"Well, that's my dream, too!" Ash exclaimed, mildly insulted by Samuel's insinuation that someone who wanted to be the best was ruthless. Misty had called him quite a few things—mindless, hopeless, idiotic—but never _ruthless_. In fact, if he hadn't heard Brock describe Team Rocket in the same exact way before, he probably wouldn't even know what it meant. And Ash hardly thought that he was on the same level as Team Rocket simply because he had a dream.

Samuel waved his hand impatiently in Ash's direction. "You don't _understand_," he said testily. "She built up…it was like a Pokemon _army_. Charizard, Blastoise, Venasaur, Gyarados, Alakazam, Machamp…even a Dragonite! And then there was this one Pokemon that no one had seen before that made her as powerful as she was. This Pokemon—it was called an Umbreon—well…it just had powers and abilities and attacks that no other trainer had ever seen before, so no one had any clue how to defeat it. Nowadays there are other trainers with Umbreons—it's a recently discovered Eevee evolution apparently—but this was nearly four hundred years ago! No one had even _heard _of it!"

"So she had a Pokemon no one had ever seen…" Ash said slowly, and he couldn't help but blurt out the next sentence instinctively. "That's so cool!"

He jumped when Samuel slammed his fist down on the table, and Pikachu leapt from the table onto Ash's lap at the vibrations, shooting Samuel a rather nasty look as he did so, his pointed ears lowered in disapproval. "It was not _cool_," Samuel ground out through gritted teeth. "Lucinda got so drunk on her own power that she did everything and anything to ensure that she would win every battle. She did things that no person with a care for their soul would do! She made sure that she would be able to control her Pokemon without issuing a single vocal command. Some people questioned if she was even human—someone so powerful had to be a demon, or a witch, and after she won the Pokemon League Championships without even breaking a sweat, even more people started believing it."

Ash frowned, his forehead wrinkled as he gave Samuel a skeptical look. "Just because she won the Pokemon League Championships?" He leaned back against the hard wooden back of the chair, leaning away a bit from Samuel and his obvious anger. "Well, good to know that you can get so great at battling that people think you aren't _human_," he muttered to Pikachu, who watched his trainer with eyes wide in confusion.

"You don't understand," Samuel snapped, pushing back his chair in frustration. He rose to his feet, towering over the table, and took several heavy footsteps back and forth, back and forth, pacing out his anger. "It wasn't so much that she won, it was what she did _after _that made people sure that she must have…that there was something…that she was some sort of demon!"

"Oh yeah?" Ash asked, folding his arms. Samuel's agitation did nothing to spark any belief within him of what he was being told. Rather, he was more and more sure with each passing moment that Samuel might just be as crazy as Ash had originally guessed. He shot Pikachu a smug look, and the Pokemon returned it knowingly. Obviously Pikachu shared his feelings on Samuel's relative sanity.

Samuel looked fairly disgusted at Ash's response. "Stupid kid," he spat. "Figures you think you know everything. At least your little friend listened." He snatched the glass of water that he had set before Ash back off the table, as though he regretted the offering, and stormed back into the kitchen. "Well, go on, then," he called over his shoulder. "Go save her, if you know it all. Go save your friends. Obviously you don't need my help after all. You know exactly what to do."

And there was that sinking, terrible feeling in his stomach as the smug look fell away. Because Ash knew, of course he knew, that he had no _idea _as to what to do, or where to even start. And maybe Samuel's story sounded crazy, but hadn't Ash seen his share of completely crazy things in the last few years? And even if Samuel were crazy, at least it was something, and something was a lot more than the nothing that he had right now.

"Wait," he blurted out, jumping to his feet, ignoring the loud screech of the chair legs as he did so. He caught Pikachu before the Pokemon tumbled out of his lap, and then crossed the few strides into the kitchen, approaching Samuel once more. "I'm sorry. You can tell me the story."

For a moment, Samuel's eyes looked sympathetic. "You and I, we're lucky that we weren't around then. That all it is is a story. At least until now." His face grew serious again, and he leaned against the counter, resting on his large hands. "After Lucinda won the Pokemon League, she lost any bit of remaining sanity—or humanity—she may had possessed in her youth. She took over the Office of Pokemon Training Regulation and made it her own, and she outlawed Pokemon training."

It took this bit of information to finally cause Ash to blanch in horror. "She _outlawed _training?" he demanded incredulously. "She couldn't do _that_!"

"But she did," Samuel confirmed grimly. "She closed all the Kanto gyms and training was prohibited. Licenses were stripped, and Pokemon were ordered to be handed over. She never wanted anyone to be able to steal her title from her. She wanted no one to compete with her. She wanted to control every Pokemon and every Pokemon trainer. It's said that she became so involved in her training, so intrenched in black arts, that she split her soul in order to share Umbreon's, so that she could harness its powers and use them herself." He shook his head, his eyes distant as he looked past Ash and Pikachu, as though he would see into the distant past and see how someone so cruel could be allowed to exist in the first place.

"The worst part was that she used her psychic powers, born of her connection with Umbreon, in order to control the minds of others. No one could be sure if someone was acting of their own will and who was under her control, and therefore no one could trust anyone else not to turn them over to Lucinda for some perceived fault or slight, some imaginary breaking of the rules she had set in place."

"And then what would happen?" Despite himself, despite any remaining skepticism, despite not knowing if he was listening to a fable or a true story, Ash found himself caught up in what Samuel was saying. Maybe it was the fact that Misty and Brock weren't around—or the fact that Misty had been told this same story and had taken it to heart. Maybe it was because the sun had yet to shine. But a shiver passed through Ash Ketchum and part of him didn't quite want to know the answer to his question.

An almost twisted smile flickered across Samuel's face. "Whatever that person did—if they were caught with a Pokeball or seen near a Pokemon—it would be punishable by death. And much like her battle strategy, her torture techniques were unique and well thought-out, and she was always the victor."

Ash gaped at the older man, feeling as though a stone had been dropped rather unpleasantly into his stomach. "She would _kill _them?" he squeaked as the story took on a new and terrible meaning, and suddenly the night outside seemed just a little bit darker.

Samuel seemed unwilling to meet his eyes, perhaps regretting his offhanded tone as he had told Ash this information. He pressed on as though Ash hadn't spoken at all, but his voice had a quiet, sombre note to it that made Ash certain that he hadn't been exaggerating his claim that people would be killed for breaking these supposed 'rules'. "She lived for a hundred and fifty years. And well, you can imagine that added to the belief that she simply couldn't be human, since she lived much longer. And then one day, she just…disappeared. Vanished. People think she died, but there never was a body. Maybe she was dragged directly down to hell, body and all." He shrugged a bit, and then a small, honest smile crossed his face. "The first night she was gone was the first night that travellers heard the Clefairies singing from Mt. Moon."

"So, she's gone then?" Ash asked, confused. If this story had been leading up to this point—Lucinda disappeared never to be heard from again and the world returned to the peaceful state it had been in prior to her rise, then Samuel had just wasted a valuable chunk of Ash's time, time that he needed in order to help find his friends.

Samuel sighed, resting his fingertips on the book that he had offered Ash that now laid upon the countertop. "Well, she was for the time being. But a psychic at the time, named Mariana, predicted that when lightning and fire and ice met and the planets aligned in the house of Venus, the world would be sent into turmoil and it was then that Lucinda would be able to slip back through the cracks of her hell and rise again."

Ash flopped down onto the not-quite-clean tiled floor of the small kitchen area, propping his head in his hands in frustration. "So, great," he grumbled, annoyed. "So by stopping one crazy power-hungry person who wanted to rule the world, we ended up releasing _another _one. Well, that's just perfect!" He snatched his hat off his head, twisting it between his hands in frustration. Pikachu cautiously approached him, taking the hat from his hands before he did any damage to it that he would later regret.

"'Five days she will relive a lifetime, five days will she be mortal, five days of darkness across the land in which she will reclaim her empire. Five days before she comes back into her full power. And if in those five days she is not defeated the sun again would never shine and she would live forever,'" Samuel quoted. He looked a little embarrassed, and tapped the cover of his book again. "I've read that part a lot. It seems to be the most important one."

"Where did you even get that thing?" Ash asked, looking at the book wonderingly from his position on the floor.

"My family has kept the record of this legend forever," Samuel said simply. "Ever since Lucinda came around the first time. Knowledge, they thought, would be the way to stop her." He smiled fondly at the book, as though remembering those in his family that had come before him. "It's been handed down from generation and generation."

"How to stop her…" Ash echoed, and then, suddenly, he leapt to his feet, stunned as the implications of what Samuel had told him hit him full-force. Pikachu leapt backwards in shock, still clutching Ash's Pokemon League hat. "You mean I only have five days? But I don't even know what to do! Or where to go!"

"Ah, but I do," Samuel said, a sly smile crossing his face despite the seriousness of the situation. "There is a weapon that was forged after Mariana made her prediction…made in Lavender Town, naturally, where they're used to dealing with the supernatural. It's a blade, carved of gold, and one pierce, within that five day timeframe, will turn her to stone."

Ash paled. "I have to _stab _someone?" he squeaked, feeling his stomach turn uncomfortably.

"Not someone," Samuel correctly grimly. "Some_thing_. One thing you must keep in mind is that she is not a human. Maybe she was once, maybe she even was when she disappeared, but she most certainly is not anymore."

He fidgeted—no matter how Samuel spun the story, it still made Ash _extremely _uncomfortable, the idea of using a blade as a weapon. "Well…where is it?" he asked reluctantly.

Samuel raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I gave it to your friend. The girl," he added, and Ash's eyes widened.

"You gave it to Misty??" he demanded, throwing his hands up in frustration. "_Misty_. I have no clue where she is, and I need to find her and her sisters and Brock, and in order to help them I have to use this…thingy…and you _gave it to Misty_. _Perfect_."

"Well, how was I supposed to know she was going to get herself snatched up?" Samuel demanded, looming over Ash threateningly. "She was the only one I could have given it to! _Someone _didn't even want to bother listening to me!"

"Well, that still doesn't help me now!" Ash complained, kicking the stove in annoyance. "Ouch!" He winced and clutched his foot, immediately regretting the action.

"Would you watch it?" Samuel barked, crouching down to examine the stove carefully. To his relief it seemed as though only Ash's toe has received any damage, but he scowled at the boy nonetheless.

"Why would she want Misty and her sisters and Brock anyway?" Ash grumbled. "It makes no sense!"

However, it seemed to make sense to Pikachu, because he tugged on Ash's pant leg, his face expectant as though he had something very important to communicate. "Pika! Pikapikachu!"

"What?" Ash asked wearily, glancing down at the electric mouse. Pikachu leapt into the air, spreading his arms wildly and pumping his paws and legs out in opposite directions. Ash frowned in confusion at the sporadic movement. "You gotta use the bathroom?"

Pikachu smacked his forehead. "Chu!" Then he shook his head, and crouched down low before leaping into the air, again spreading his limbs in a wide spread eagle, simulating…something.

"You're shocked at this development?"

"Pika!" And now it was Ash who got smacked across the face by an irritated Pokemon.

"Ouch!" he complained, rubbing his slightly sore cheek. Luckily Pikachu was tiny and light and leaping into the air, and couldn't get the force of motion behind the swing that some people—like _Misty_—always seemed to be able to accomplish so well.

And suddenly, it clicked for Ash, as it so often seemed to whenever he was physically attacked. "Oh, the explosions?" Ash asked, and Pikachu nodded gratefully, falling backwards onto the ground, glad that he wouldn't have to perform any more acrobats in order to get his point across.

"Explosions?" Samuel asked sharply, interrupting the conversation.

"I told you," Ash reminded him. "The Cerulean Gym was destroyed, and the day before that, the Pewter Gym."

He nodded knowingly. "Well, that was where she started. Closing the gyms down."

"What a way to close them," Ash muttered sourly, and then he lifted his head. "Do you think that she…the little girl…Lucinda or whoever…took Misty and her sisters, and Brock, because they're gym leaders?"

Samuel nodded again, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I would say so. The first time around, no one knows what happened to the leaders of the gyms that Lucinda closed." Then he frowned. "You should hurry."

"Why?" Ash asked, that anxious feeling crawling back into his stomach. "What's going to happen to them?"

"If you don't get there before the end of the five days?" Samuel asked, giving Ash a serious stare. "They'll be killed."

Horrified, Ash sank down into the chair once more, his knees giving out from under him. Misty, and Brock…and Misty's sisters. He had been so sure that they couldn't possibly be dead, so positive when he had spoken to Officer Jenny, and yet, in a few days time, they might be. They might be gone forever.

How was there supposed to be a world without Misty, without Brock, in it? What would he do without them?

_No_, he counseled himself sternly. _Don't think that way. You're going to be able to help them_. He always seemed to find a way out of these messes, and this time would be no exception.

"Where should I go?" he asked Samuel faintly, his limbs heavy with exhaustion and his mind numb with the horrible truth of what could happen to his friends.

"Off the coast of the Seafoam Islands," he said, opening the book and turning a few pages carefully until he arrived at a page with a hand drawn map displayed upon it. Carefully and reverently, as though he regretted what must be done, he tore the page out and handed it to Ash. "You can go en route through Pallet and get a boat there."

Ash frowned, glancing at the map suspiciously. "Where exactly is it?" There was no X, no marking, that would suggest where whatever place he was looking for might be located.

"I don't know," Samuel answered forlornly. "No one does. If she wants you to find it, you'll find it. If she doesn't, you never will."

"Great," Ash muttered, folding the map and stuffing it in his pocket. He hesitated, not sure if he wanted the answer to his next question. "Samuel…yesterday…Misty, she…she almost fell. Into a river. She was acting…weird. Do you think…?"

Samuel smiled, but it was a grim smile, with no joy. "Well, Lucinda was always creative. I trust she's one of the Cerulean Gym Leaders, and not Pewter?"

"Yeah…" Ash replied slowly, not sure where the older man was going with his train of thought. "How did you know?"

"Of course, then, water would be her undoing," he pointed out with a sigh, and Ash bit his lip uncertainly. Misty loved the water, of course she did—and now apparently it was going to be a place of danger.

He'd need some luck convincing _her _of that.

He stood up again, but wearily, again the boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Pikachu sympathetically offered up his Pokemon League hat, and Ash sighed, giving Pikachu a tired smile and settling the hat back on his head. He would have given anything to have Misty and Brock there—they had always been his support, pushed him to keep going, helped him to success.

And now he was all alone.

Pikachu leapt up onto his shoulder as though to remind him that this wasn't necessarily true, and Ash took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for the difficulties that would no doubt lie ahead in the next few days. He did feel better knowing, however, that he would have his most loyal Pokemon at his side. If Pikachu had been taken as well…well, then Ash would have been even more lost than he currently was. "I guess I should get going," he said uncertainly. "Or do you think I should wait until morning?"

Samuel gave a low chuckle. "You don't get it, do you? Until she's defeated, there _will _be no morning."

"Right…" he replied, trying to rally his courage and energy. "Then I'll go now."

"One last thing," Samuel stopped him, opening the drawer next to the bookcase he had retrieved the book from. He rummaged for a couple of minutes, and Ash watched him curiously, wondering what else there could _possibly _be. He already felt as though his entire world had been turned on its head in a matter of moments, and it seemed as though Sameul wasn't quite done with him yet.

"Here," Samuel said, clutching something small in his hand and offering it out to Ash. Instinctively Ash opened his palm and received the object. He studied it closely—a gold encased cylinder with engraving upon it. Instinctively, he seemed to realize what it was, but he was surprised nonetheless. Relieved, yes, but surprised.

"I thought you said you gave it to Misty?" he asked, clutching what he perceived to be the blade that he was to use, trapped safely away within its encasing.

"Oh, I did," Samuel replied, waving his hand in reply. "That's not _real_. It's one of the souvenirs that was made up around the time Mariana made her prediction! Only 5.99!"

Ash exhaled loudly, the relief disappearing as quickly as it had come, replaced by bitter disappointment. A fake, a phony, and no use to him at all. "Yeah, well, thanks for all your help," he told Samuel, a little bitterly now that he felt as though he had almost been duped. Still, he pocketed the item—at least now he would know what the actual blade would look like.

If he ever found it.

If he ever found Misty.

A little shorter than last chapter, but still longer than I thought it would be! So, you (and Ash) finally have some idea of what's going on. This was another chapter that I edited to try and make it work on paper as is did in my head. XD Hope it didn't seem TOO far out there. After writing for so many real-life fandoms, it's odd for me to write for an anime where I CAN write things like this!

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Again, I hope you'll take the time to review (especially if you haven't yet), and thanks to those who review every chapter! It's very much appreciated and I always look forward to getting them:-D


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Sorry this chapter has been so long in coming—almost a month! Schoolwork has been piling on and this week and last week I've been busy with midterms. In addition, I had some trouble with the start of this chapter, but once I got about past the midway point it was easier to finish it up.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Last chapter got the most reviews so far! I really love getting feedback! Please keep it coming, just like I will keep the chapters coming!

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

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**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 8**

It felt odd to be sneaking around his hometown of Pallet Town, like a fugitive on the run, but Ash was desperately afraid of running into his mother in the short time that he spent back home. With the sun still nowhere in sight, there was no hiding from anyone, including Delia Ketchum, that there was something sinister going on. Ash was positive that if his mother were to see him now, without Misty and Brock at his side, he would be locked in his bedroom for roughly the next six years, 'for his own protection.' She certainly wouldn't let him travel to some unknown, unmarked island to face some unpredictable evil, and so, the best idea seemed to be to lay low and avoid her.

And although it seemed like the worst idea if he wanted to avoid people who would _tell _his mother that he had been through town, he couldn't help but hope that he would be able to enlist Tracey to come along with him, and that was how he found himself creeping slowly, carefully, his sneakers scraping on the concrete of the long driveway, up to Professor Oak's lab.

Ash really didn't want to go alone to…well, he wasn't even sure where he was going. If he could just get Tracey's attention, and he could somehow sneak away without Professor Oak realizing…okay, it was a long shot, but every option Ash had seemed to be a long shot at this point and he was taking all the help he could get.

Safe up on Ash's hat, Pikachu served as lookout, keeping watch for anyone suspicious or anyone who resembled Ash's mother. His paws clutching either side of the worn cap, his tail was perked up at attention and his eyes searched the area suspiciously.

The Pokemon lab at the top of the hill seemed opposing, a looming figure guarding over the town. Perhaps it was because of the shadow cast across Ash's path by the trees, or perhaps it was the fact that there was no friendly twinkle of light coming from within the lab—something that puzzled him and caused him to hurry his pace along, jogging the rest of the way up the hill.

As soon as he drew within sight of the large front windows the lab, he fell to his hands and knees and proceeded to crawl along. Pikachu let out a small squeak of surprise and indignation from his perch, having been unwarned prior to the sudden drop.

"Sorry," Ash hissed to his Pokemon under his breath. "If Professor Oak's in there, I don't want him to see me. He'd definitely tell Mom where we were going." He continued to crawl, wincing as the concrete scraped up the bare part of his knee that was exposed from the hole in his pants. He was probably just making the hole wider, but if torn pants was the worst thing he had to deal with at the end of this experience, then he would take it and count himself lucky. "I just need to try and get Tracey's attention…"

He soon found himself face-to-face with some of the green shrubbery that lined the outer walls of the lab, and cautiously he placed his gloved hands on the windowsill and peeped over the edge, trying to see through the large window without drawing attention to himself and remaining mostly out of sight.

However, this didn't seem to work very well for him at all, because the room he was peering into was completely dark and seemed to be void of anyone at all. Frowning, Ash glanced to the right and to the left before sitting up enough that he could press his face against the window, cupping his hands against the cool glass in order to try to see better. Now he could vaguely make out Professor Oak's huge computer system, as well as a long table, but there was no Professor Oak and there was no Tracey.

"Huh," Ash muttered, his breath fogging up the window as he exhaled loudly in disappointment. "That's weird."

Undeterred, he fell back into his crawling position and used the bushes to hide him as he made his way from window to window, being equally careful at each stop to remain out of sight as he looked for his friend. He ended up circling the entire lab and ended up exactly where he had started, with no luck in locating Tracey.

His usual impatience took over and he decided that he would just have to knock on the front door and throw himself at the mercy of Professor Oak. While the professor would probably want Ash to leave this situation to the professionals, he always _had _had a greater sense of what needed to be done than Ash's mother did. If Ash could convince him that this was the only way to prevent any more damage from being done, he was sure that he would keep his secret for the next five days.

"Come on, Pikachu," Ash said, still instinctively quiet, as he climbed back to his feet, dusting his dirt-encrusted hands off on his pants. The electric Pokemon followed Ash loyally to the front door of the lab, where he took a deep breath, giving a good glance over his back just in case someone had sneaked up on him while he had let his guard down before giving a couple of firm knocks on the lab door.

No answer.

"Hello?" Ash called, standing up on tip-toes and trying to see through the peephole. He knocked again, louder this time. "Professor Oak? Tracey?"

The last time he had entered a place when his knocks had gone unanswered, it had had a very unpleasant outcome. However, he was much more familiar with Professor Oak and Tracey than he was with Samuel, and he _thought_, or at least _hoped _that they were more the type to think before blindly attacking. Even so, it was with heavy trepidation that Ash tried the door, hoping that he wasn't making another mistake by taking it upon himself to enter.

His wondering was for nothing, however, as the lab was tightly locked up. He scowled, pulling again for good measure as though hoping the door would change its mind and give way. But it simply refused to give way.

Panic passed through him like a jolt from Pikachu's Thunderbolt, and he took a few stumbling steps backwards, glancing up at the upper floors of the lab, hoping to see some movement or light there to calm his nerves. But the entire lab was silent and still, foreboding rather than welcoming as was per the usual, and Ash wondered if he had come too late and Professor Oak and Tracey were now in as much trouble as Misty and Brock.

But it didn't seem to fit the profile of what had happened at Cerulean and Pewter. While the lab was seemingly empty, it was also still immaculate. It seemed untouched, a sharp contrast to the rubble that the Cerulean City and Pewter City gyms had been reduced to. It was a relief to see the Pokemon lab that had been such a staple of his life still standing, but it was equally confusing.

Ash sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets and kicking a loose pebble from the gravel to punctuate his annoyance. "Looks like no one's there. Guess we should go." He exhaled loudly and glanced down at Pikachu. "Do you think something happened to them?"

"Pikachu," Pikachu responded as he raised his paws in a shrug.

It didn't feel quite right, leaving the lab without finding any sign of Professor Oak or Tracey, but without any indication of where they had gone, how long they had been gone, or if they had left of their own free will or not, there wasn't much he could do. He couldn't exactly go to his house and ask his mother if she knew where they were. Well, at least not if he ever wanted to see the outside world again.

So despite lingering concerns, Ash trudged down the long driveway once more. Pikachu trotted after him, easily able to keep pace with his trainer's dejected stride. When he reached the bottom of the hill, Ash glanced back up at the lab, hoping against hope to see a light flicker in an upstairs window, or to see a silhoutte pass by. As he expected, there was nothing, and so he had no choice but to turn back and continue on his way.

He knew the path to the docks well enough. Pallet Town was relatively small, after all, and he had lived there all his life. He could probably travel anywhere within the town's perimeter with his eyes closed, and find his way perfectly fine. And so as he traveled the familiar path, his mind wandered to the last time he had taken this route. Had it only been a week ago that he had walked here, heading towards home, looking forward to rest and relaxation? He had returned after trying to right the world only to find it all gone wrong again. And now Pikachu and his other Pokemon were the only friends at his side, now that Misty and Brock were gone and Tracey was nowhere to be found. This time he was supposed to set it right by himself.

"Delia! Delia!" Ash's head shot up at the sound of a semi-familiar voice calling his mother's name, and beside him, Pikachu's eyes pricked. Wildly, the two looked around, and Ash thought that in _this _moment, he might be most afraid, as he couldn't see his mother and therefore she might be in a position to swoop down on them before they were even aware of what was happening. Yes, he was more afraid of his mother than anything he had faced so far.

Pathetic? Maybe. Understandable, in his opinion.

"Hide!" he hissed to Pikachu, and when the Pokemon did not react quickly enough for his liking, he snatched him up in his arms and dove into the bushes that lined the road he was traveling. Pikachu gave a squeak of displeasure at being manhandled in that fashion, and Ash put his finger to his lips, frantically gesturing. "Ssssh…"

A few mere moments later, he saw two pairs of legs come into view, one set donning a pair of pants and the other set in a modest skirt that ended just past the knee. Peering out from his position in the bushes, his face close to the ground in order to remain hidden, Ash discovered that the skirted legs belonged to his mother, and the ones in the pants to their neighbor, which was likely why the voice had sounded somewhat familiar.

Ash tried to breathe as quietly as possible, almost sure that his mother would be able to tell that he was lying only a few feet away from her, with that freaky sixth sense that she always seemed to possess.

"What do you think, Delia?" their neighbor, Mr. Greenleaf, asked, glancing up at the sky. "Sure is weird, huh?"

"Oh, I know," his mother answered, her brown eyes wide and worried. "There's something going on—and oh, I just wish Ash were home! Last time he was right in the middle of this mess, and I just want him home and safe and sound where I can see him until this passes."

A twinge of guilt passed through Ash, and he exchanged a look with Pikachu. He hated making his mother worry—though no matter what he got up to he was sure she would worry—but there wasn't much that he could do about the situation. The alternative—leaving Misty and Brock to some horrible fate—was too terrible to contemplate.

"Where is Ash now, anyway?" Mr. Greenleaf asked curiously.

Mrs. Ketchum sighed. "Oh, he went with his friends to Pewter City and then Cerulean City. They live there, you know. They wanted to visit while they had a chance."

"Pewter and Cerulean? Didn't you hear?"

Ash cringed as he heard his mother respond anxiously, "Hear what?"

"Those were two of the gyms that ended up collapsing. Pewter, Cerulean, Fuscia, and Celadon, I think it was."

"Pika!" Pikachu exclaimed in shock at the revelation that more gyms had fallen under attack, and that the two that they had seen fall to the ground were apparently not the only two effected. Ash scrambled to clamp a hand over Pikachu's mouth before the Pokemon could draw any more attention to their hiding spot, and he held his breath as he watched his mother look around curiously, her attention caught.

"Did you hear that?" Mrs. Ketchum asked, and Mr. Greenleaf frowned.

"Hear what?" he replied.

"Hmmm…" she murmured, frowning a bit. "Must have been my imagination." She raised her head sharply as she seemed to realize the significance of what her neighbor had told her. "The gyms collapsed? Are you sure?"

"Am I sure? It's all over the news, Delia! No one knows what caused it, but it seems like no one's been hurt so far, thank the Lord…"

"But the gyms were where Ash was going!" his mother exclaimed, clasping her hands to her mouth in horror. "If they were destroyed, where is he?"

Ash glanced at Pikachu, guilt weighing heavily on his conscience. Part of him wanted to jump up and tell his mother that he was right there, and that he was fine—at least for now. He hated knowing that he was worrying his mother…but wouldn't she worry more knowing what he was up to, and where he planned on going? And that was assuming she didn't physically confine him.

Luckily, Mr. Greenleaf hurried to reassure her. "I'm sure he's fine. Like I said, there aren't any reported injuries…"

Mrs. Ketchum pursed her lips. "Even so, you can bet that he's getting a talking to when he gets back home! He should have called me and let me know he was all right!" Now she clenched her fists, her eyes ablaze with a fury that Ash recognized and feared all too well. "Oh, he's in _so _much trouble when he gets here!"

Maybe it was a good thing, then, that he hadn't given in and spoken up to let his mother know where he was. 'So much trouble' was never an empty threat. Ash gulped, releasing his grip on Pikachu before the electric Pokemon got angry and gave him a shock, and sank back further into the bushes.

"Don't you worry, Delia," Mr. Greenleaf said gently. "You know Ash. Don't think you could get that kid down if you tried."

Mrs. Ketchum sighed. "I hope so." She glanced at her watch, and then glanced at the dark sky, looming oppressively over them like a smothering blanket. "I hope this all passes as quickly as possible, and Ash comes home safe."

* * *

"So…what now?" Ash muttered to Pikachu, now standing at his side. He scratched the back of his neck, confused. "Somehow I doubt there are ships scheduled to head out to the middle of nowhere."

His mother and Mr. Greenleaf had parted ways, Mr. Greenleaf heading towards Viridian to the Pokemon Center to stock up on supplies in preparation for the unknown, while his mother had returned home, unwilling to leave Mr. Mime alone for such a long time while he seemed to be in such a strange state of distress.

He had watched his mother's shoes pass him as he resisted the urge to jump from his hiding spot and follow after her. He would never admit it to anyone, but part of him wanted someone to tell him that he wasn't allowed, that he couldn't, that he was absolutely not to leave and find this island.

But his desire to help Misty and Brock was much stronger than the part that wanted to run away, and he knew that if he had been in their spots, they would do anything to help him. And that had led him to waiting, silently, barely breathing or moving, in the bush for a good ten minutes before he deemed it safe again to leave and take the remainder of the path down to the docks of Pallet Town.

The pier was nowhere near as busy as it normally was, the influx of ships and passengers having been understandably ground to a half. A few lone figures, fishermen who had decided to brave the dark waters, lumbered back and forth from the pier to their boats, shrouded by the fog that rose from the water as they dragged poles and bait with them. The old wooden planks creaked beneath Ash's feet as he reluctantly made his way towards them, but for all the attention they paid him, he might as well have been a ghost.

The nearest man was short and stocky, only Ash's height but nearly twice as wide. He had a ruddy face that was probably the byproduct of the large case of equipment he was dragging with him. When stepping near the man and awkwardly clearing his throat brought him no attention, Ash was forced to speak up. "Um…excuse me? I was wondering where you were going?"

"Where does it look like, kid?" the man grunted, giving a heave to pull the case from the dock onto his boat. "A tea party?"

Ash flushed in embarrassment. "Well, obviously you're going out there, but I was wondering _where_ out there."

The man wiped his hands on his pants, leaving a trail of grease and grime that seemed to concern him not at all. "Dunno," he said, still not sparing Ash a glance as he gathered his poles. "Wherever they're biting. Maybe deep water between here and Cinnabar. It's usually full of ferries, but ain't a damn thing out there tonight."

Not to be deterred, Ash decided to press on. "I was wondering if you could maybe take me out to this island past the Seafoam Islands."

He finally looked at Ash now, wiping his forearm on his forehead to wick away some of the sweat that had formed there, leaving a track of dirt similar to the ones on his pants in its place. "You want to go where now?"

"There's this island…" Ash tried to explain. "Apparently past the coast of the Seafoam Islands. I don't know the exact location, but it's very important that I get there as soon as possible!"

The fisherman let out a barking laugh. "You're crazy, kid. There ain't a single island for miles and miles around Seafoam, 'sides Cinnabar. And even that's a good distance."

Ash opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, gaping helplessly like a Magikarp. "But…but…" he sputtered when he finally found his voice. "That's impossible! I _know _there's an island!"

"Oh yeah?" he eyed Ash suspiciously. "Why? You been there?"

Ash pressed his lips together. "No," he admitted. "But someone told me! And he wouldn't be making it up!" Suddenly, pressed on by his panic, he reached out and grasped the fisherman's arm in pleading. "Please. Please, I'm begging you. It's a matter of life or death. I _have _to get there!"

The man pulled his arm away, mildly disgruntled. "Yeah, well, good luck finding someone to take you to an island that doesn't exist and that you don't know the location of." With a grace that seemed to defy his rather large size, he hopped into his boat. He braced himself on the floor before revving the engine, and it roared to life. "Catch ya later, kid!"

And just like that, he was gone, and all Ash could do was fall onto his behind on the dock, the water of the wet planks seeping through his pants and making him shiver. It only added to his state of misery, and he rested his forehead against his knees.

Because the fisherman was right—who would take Ash to an island that he had no proof existed, other than Samuel's word? And even if he did manage to convince someone that it existed, he had no idea of its exact location, and that just served to make him seem even _more _unreliable!

The rest of the fishermen on the pier paid him no mind as he laid there, which seemed to only further confirm his suspicions that no one would be willing to help him. No one cared about him—to them he was just an odd boy with an even odder request, and it would be best to ignore him and go about their business as usual.

"What do I do now, Pikachu?" Ash asked numbly, not expecting his Pokemon to have the answers he needed.

And yet, Pikachu did have answers.

"Pika! Pikapi!" he exclaimed in excitement, tugging on Ash's pantleg until he finally looked up. Pikachu was pointing frantically down the dock, and Ash squinted in the fog to make out what he was gesturing to with his paw.

It was an old wooden rowboat, seemingly abandoned as no one ran to and fro carrying equipment, which would probably look out of place on such a dingy vessel anyway. It was anchored to the dock by a carelessly looped rope knot, and it bobbed invitingly on the soft waves that rocked into the pier.

"Yes!" Ash exclaimed, leaping back to his feet and pumping his fist in relief. "We're back in business." He grinned down at Pikachu, even more glad now than he had been before that he wasn't in this alone, that he had his faithful companion by his side. "Pikachu, you're a genius."

However, as he scampered over to the boat, he began having second thoughts. Upon drawing near to it, it was obvious _why _it had been abandoned—the rundown boat didn't look as though it could get them around the perimeter of the Cerulean Gym pool, much less all the way out to the Seafoam Islands. The planks of wood seemed to be barely clinging together, and when Ash gingerly stepped into the boat, they groaned under his weight in protest. He was almost afraid when Pikachu hopped in to join him, and the boat seemed to shudder beneath them.

"Um, right…" he said, trying to sound positive despite growing doubts. "It'll be fine!"

Taking a quick glance around, he spied the oars resting under the wooden bench. "Let's…get ready to go, then, I guess," he said uncertainly, and he took a few careful steps towards the oars.

When he reached the bench however, his foot crashed straight through the bottom of the boat. He let out a cry of protest as water began seeping into the boat, and, wincing in discomfort, he pulled his foot free from the jagged wood.

Which turned out to be a terrible idea, he soon discovered, because as soon as he removed his foot a torrent of water gushed through the newly formed hole. "Ack! Stop!" Ash exclaimed, as though he could in fact order the boat to stop leaking, and instinctively he slammed his palms down over the hole, trying to diminish the rate at which water filled the rowboat. "Maybe…" he grunted, keeping the pressure on the hole, "…maybe if we can find something to block it up, it'll still be okay…"

"Pika…pi…" Pikachu panted, his paws pressed over Ash's hands but his voice sounding doubtful.

"You know, every time I think you couldn't possibly be any bigger of a loser, you manage to outdo yourself, Ashy."

Of all the familiar voices Ash longed to hear, to let him know that he wasn't alone and that things would be all right, Gary Oak's was not one of them.

But yet there his rival stood, smugly watching Ash and Pikachu from the safety of the dock, his arms folded and a smirk of disdained amusement gracing his face. His brown hair waved gently in the breeze from the sea, and his trademark ying-yang necklace gleamed, probably from repetitive shining. Of course Gary would have time for such vanities. _Gary _never seemed to find himself in these situations—instead, he seemed to just linger on the sidelines to better torment Ash.

Ash gritted his teeth, a small growl of frustration escaping his lips before he opened his mouth and yelled, "Shut up, Gary! Can't you see I'm busy here?"

Gary laughed at this, leaning over as though his stomach hurt from his amusement, and rested his hands on his knees so that he could better peer into the boat at Ash. "Oh, yeah, I can tell. Real busy being an _idiot_." He looked around, as though suddenly realizing that something was missing. "Where's the rest of the dork parade? Where's your girlfriend, Ashy?"

Ash felt his face flush at the reference to Misty, and he opened his mouth instinctively to give a retort, and to deny what Gary insinuated. At the last minute, however, he decided to not give Gary the satisfaction of riling him up, and so he merely shot back, "Where's your band of clueless cheerleaders? Finally realize that you're not all that and a bag of Pokechow?"

Rather than striking Gary to the core with his comeback, as Ash had hoped to do, his remark caused Gary to break into gales of laughter. "Hey, you're the one trying to keep a boat afloat with your _hands_! _You _calling _anyone _clueless is a bit of a stretch!"

Ash scowled angrily—Gary always knew how to get a bigger rise out of him than anyone, except, of course, with the possible exception of Misty. But it was somehow different—fighting with Misty simply felt routine while whenever he encountered Gary, all he wanted to do was knock his big, stupid head against something solid and rock-hard. "Listen, this isn't a joke! Just bug off and leave me alone!"

"Oooh, someone's touchy," Gary predicted tauntingly. "Well, I guess I'd be touchy, too, if the most interesting thing to do in my life was try and sail a leaky rowboat."

"You don't even know what's going on!" he snapped in response, because of course he wouldn't know—_Gary _was never the one who had to save the world. _Gary _just had to try and show people up in battle while his band of mindless followers cheered him on before hopping into his little sportscar and driving away. In fact, finding Gary in Pallet Town, alone, seemed extremely unusual, though certainly not as unusual as the events of the last couple of days. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Gary shrugged, seemingly unaffected by Ash's anger. "I'm watching the lab for Gramps while he's away."

An alarm bell went off in Ash's head, and he smacked himself mentally for having forgotten his visit to the Pokemon lab. However, Gary's words brought him some relief. "He's away? So everything is okay? He's safe? And Tracey?"

Gary raised an eyebrow in disdain in the questions that Ash shot off. "He's at a meeting in New Bark Town with Professor Elm and Professor Ivy," he replied in a rather bored tone of voice, as though Ash's questions were below him. "Not that it's any of _your _business. I would imagine your dorky friend begged to go along. They're trying to figure out what's going on with all this," he waved his hand at the sky as though it didn't matter much, and then narrowed his eyes at Ash. "And what are _you _doing here? Finally realized you're a failure as a Pokemon trainer? Thought you'd try sailing instead? Let me tell you, Ash, you're not off to much of a better start than you were with training!" He broke into laughter, amused at his own joke at Ash's expense.

His laughter sparked something in Ash, and he snapped. Pulling his hands from the leaking hole, leaving Pikachu to scramble in a panic to keep them afloat by flinging his entire body over the spot, Ash lunged at his rival. He was laughing, laughing at Ash and at Pikachu, and at Brock and Misty and Misty's sisters and at the danger they all faced and at the seemingly impossible task in front of Ash. And wasn't that always the way it had been, Ash fighting for everything he gained while Gary, Gary the golden boy, stood by and laughed and achieved everything Ash had ever wanted without breaking a sweat and then coming to lord it over Ash.

His fingers clenched around the collar of Gary's shirt, and Gary's laughter died abruptly as he looked at Ash with gaping shock. "Shut _up_," Ash growled in a voice that did not quite seem his own. "Does this," he waved his free hand angrily at the darkened sky, "look like a _joke _to you? Yeah, I get it, the laugh's on me, but at least _I'm _doing something about it!"

Gary seemed to recover his senses, and he grabbed Ash's fist from the front of his shirt. Bigger and stronger, he easily pushed Ash to the ground, looming threateningly over him. Ash winced as his back hit the cold, damp wooden planks of the dock. He rolled onto his side, reaching behind him to rub the sore spot on his spine where he had hit the ground.

"You want to do something?" Gary demanded, his fists curling into balls. "Then do something real! You're not going to get anywhere in that thing—it couldn't sail across a bathtub!"

"Yeah, well, I'm doing the best I can!" Ash replied defensively, because he _was_. He was lost as to how to defeat something he had so little knowledge of, but he was plunging headfirst into it. Because that was the best way he could think of doing this, the _only _way he could think of doing this. He had never been one to sit and consider his options—instead he was always the first to jump into the fray.

"If that's your best," Gary sneered, gesturing to the boat that was slowly filling with water despite Pikachu's best efforts, "then your best isn't nearly good enough." His fists relaxed and Ash felt the tension release from his shoulders as he realized that he probably wouldn't be beaten to a bloody pulp after all. "No, if you wanna get anywhere, you need something like…" he looked around, and then pointed, "that."

He was pointing to one of the many private boats docked at port, its owner busy and preparing for cast-off. Equipment was scattered in front, on the pier, ready to be loaded in a few moments time.

"Yeah, right," Ash replied moodily. "Don't you think I've tried that already? No one's willing to take me out to the middle of nowhere. That guy isn't going to be any different."

"I'm not talking about getting _him _to take us, stupid," Gary snarled.

Horror crossed Ash's face as he realized what Gary was insinuating. "You mean _steal _it!" he exclaimed, and Gary's eyes flashed in annoyance.

"Sssh!" he hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had overhead them. "Would you keep your voice down?"

"I can't…I can't _steal_ his boat!" Ash hissed, lowering his voice at Gary's glare, staring up at the other boy agape.

"Fine," Gary replied, shrugging as though it did not matter much either way to him. "Then don't. Swim for all I care."

Ash pressed his mouth in a grim line. It seemed he found himself more and more enmeshed in things he did not want to be involved with. Not that taking other people's modes of transportation was anything new to him—that was, after all, how he had met Misty in the first place. But that had been an emergency, and he _had _really intended to simply _borrow _it…

But wasn't this an emergency as well? And who was to say that he wouldn't really return it this time?

Well, a bike and a boat were two completely different things!

He _could _use Lapras, he mused, but his Lapras was young and used to the smaller distances between the Orange Islands, and he was reluctant to make his Pokemon travel such a long way when he was so unsure as to where he was going. If they got lost, which was a high possibility, there would be nowhere to turn to in order to give Lapras a rest. They would be stuck.

He turned to his most loyal Pokemon. "What do you think, Pikachu?" His eyes widened in alarm as he realized that Pikachu was half submerged in the water, still holding faithfully over the hole in the boat. "Pikachu!"

"Pikapi!" Pikachu gurgled, the sound muffled by the water filling the bottom. Ash quickly reached into the boat and pulled Pikachu free, holding him in the safety of his arms, and the two watched forlornly as the little rowboat they had been counting on sunk beneath the gently lapping waves.

Pikachu leapt down from Ash's arms, giving a good shake and spraying Gary and Ash with excess water from his fur in the process. "Hey, tell your electric rat to watch it!" Gary exclaimed, throwing his hands up in an attempt to shield himself.

"Are you okay, Pikachu?" Ash asked, concerned.

"Pikachu," the Pokemon replied, flashing his trainer the thumbs-up sign.

Ash sighed, crouching down so that he was on Pikachu's level. "So what do you think we should do, buddy?" he asked, making sure to keep his voice low.

Pikachu's ears drooped in response, and he waved his paws sadly. "Pipikachu."

He sighed again. "I know. You miss Misty and Brock." He rested his hand briefly on Pikachu's head, giving him a scratch behind the ears that was happily received and seemed to cheer the electric mouse up. "I miss them, too."

He did miss them. And he had to help them.

Resolved, Ash stood back up and faced Gary. "How should I do this?" he asked quietly.

"Get your Pikachu to cause a distraction," Gary replied, his voice equally as quiet. "Then you jump in the boat and take off before he knows what's going on."

The whole thing felt deliberately dirty and underhanded, and it left an unpleasant feeling in Ash's stomach. But unconsciously his mind wandered to the last time he had 'taken off before they realized what was going on.' Misty and Brock had done so much for him, and always helped him along his journey, and he simply couldn't forsake them now, when they needed him. So he looked down at Pikachu. "Think you can do it?"

"Pika!" Pikachu nodded, determined, driven by the same desire to help their friends, and then he took off, racing towards the man on all fours while Ash crept slowly from behind, trying to remain inconspicuous.

"Pikachu!" Pikachu chirped cheerfully to the man, sitting back up and wiggling his ears in an endearing manner.

The fisherman turned, and he looked interested. "Hey, what's this? A Pikachu? What are you doing so far from Viridian Forest?"

"Pikapi," Pikachu replied, and instinctively he did a handstand, immediately going for an attempt at amusement. When the man laughed Pikachu glowed in excitement that his little circus act seemed to be appealing, and he followed up the handstand with a forward roll, and then a cartwheel.

The fisherman chuckled. "You're a little showoff, aren't you?" He put down his equipment, and put his hands on his hips, regarding the Pokemon. "I usually only catch water Pokemon, but it might be good to have a little electric shock when I battle the others before setting out!"

"Pika!" Pikachu exclaimed in alarm, realizing the direction this exchange was going. He darted forward and snatched one of the fishing poles in his mouth and quickly dashed off, heading down the pier along the water's edge, away from the boat.

"Hey!" the man yelled, his amusement leaving him as he realized what Pikachu had taken. "Hey, you get back here! I need that!" He took off after Pikachu at a run, and Pikachu increased his speed, the fishing pole still tight between his teeth as he struggled to keep a lead on his opponent.

"Now!" Gary hissed, and Ash leapt forward while the man tore after his Pokemon, hopping into the boat. It was small, but sturdy and firm and well-kept. Unlike the rowboat, it supported his weight easily, and also unlike the rowboat, Ash had no idea how to operate it. Any boat he had been on before had always been captained by someone else, and now he was at a loss.

He wandered uncertainly over to the steering wheel, turning the key in the ignition. "Umm..where's the gas pedal?" he asked Gary, glancing over his shoulder with a confused look on his face.

Gary stared at him, agape, and then, scowling in annoyance, hopped onto the boat as well, swinging his legs gracefully over the edge. "Oh, God…you _are _a loser!" He reached for the handle of the engine, giving it a firm tug and the engine roared to life.

"Ack!" Ash yelped in shock as the boat lurched forward, his gloved hands coming up instinctively to grip the steering wheel as they tore away from the dock. "How do I stop this thing?"

"Stop it?" Gary yelled over the humming engine. "You wanted to make it go!"

"I have to get Pikachu!" Ash hollered back, reminding his rival of this very important fact.

"Completely useless!" Gary huffed, and with a rough hand he grabbed the back of Ash's shirt and yanked him from the driver's seat. "I'm surprised you've managed to even _live _fifteen years, you're such a moron!" With the air of one forced in a position much beneath him, he flounced into the seat and pushed the gear into forward.

Ash yelped again as he was tossed onto the passenger's seat as Gary made a sharp turn, cruising quickly along the edge of the pier, where the owner of the boat was in hot pursuit of Pikachu, who seemed to be quickly tiring of running so quickly carrying something so large.

As they bypassed the man and approached Pikachu, Ash leaned over the side, holding out his arms. "Come on, Pikachu! Hop in!"

"Pika!" Pikachu agreed in relief, dropping the fishing rod as he spoke, and with a flying leap he landed in Ash's arms.

The man skidded to a halt as Pikachu jumped, pleased for a moment that his pole had been released, and then his eyes widened in shock as he seemed to notice for the first time exactly what had happened. "Hey…wait…" he sputtered, and then his face turned a violent shade of red as he hollered, "That's my boat! Get back here!"

But his voice was lost on the wind of the sea as Gary made another sharp turn, sending Ash falling to the ground with Pikachu in his arms. At this point he was fairly certain that Gary's rough steering was not completely coincidental. For a moment, he laid there on the damp and muddy floor of the boat, not wanting to sit back up and see the man they had just deceived, stuck on the dock unable to do anything but stamp his feet and yell himself hoarse.

And soon the man's voice trailed away and Ash could hear nothing at all, and he sat back up, watching Gary steer the boat like an expert as Pallet Town faded into the distance and the wide open sea spread in front of them.

* * *

Thank you especially to **Spruceton Spook, Bittersweet Romanticide, Milotic **(I do in fact read Harry Potter and so was very honored by your comparison!)**, Marcus S. Lazarus, **and **Cascading Crimson **(yay, you have an account!) for their indepth and faithful reviews. I always look forward to them! I would have liked to respond more personally, but I figured you guys would rather I work on the chapter than PM you all.

Hope you enjoyed! I have spring break next week and will try to get a good chunk of Chapter 9 done then. Hopefully this chapter will put me at over 40 reviews!


	9. Chapter 9

He was running after her again

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for being patient with the long wait. I hope you guys don't get discouraged when it takes me awhile to update—I'm not losing interest or anything, it's just that with time and other things going on when I sit down to write, it's usually only a couple of paragraphs at a time. This chapter was also a bit difficult to write because I ended up combining what I had scheduled as Chapter 9 AND Chapter 10, because the material for 9 just left it very short and feeling very 'filler'-esque.

PS: What a pain the new ' line break only' rule is! I've tried to go back and edit all the chapters, but if something looks off (a sudden jump from scene to scene without any lead-in), I may have missed a break, so let me know if you encounter that.

Thanks for the reviews from everyone! Reviews for the last two chapters have really picked up and it's so exciting to see! I hope you guys keep it up!

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon or any of its characters or concepts.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight**

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 9**

He was running after her again.

She always remained just a few steps ahead, just out of his grasp, elusive, unreachable, all red hair and long, colt-like limbs. He would try to run faster to catch her, but she would match his stride and her legs were just as long as his and so he always was left behind as she maintained the distance between them.

He called her name, because he didn't understand why she was running from him or what she was running to. However, there was a feeling of dread nagging in the back of his mind that made him certain that she was heading for something dangerous. He knew that it was his duty to stop her, if only he could catch her.

They ran off the clear path, across the meadow with green grass that hadn't been groomed in ages and so brushed high on their legs and rustled as they moved. They cut a clear path through that grass, marking the places they had been and crashing relentlessly forward into the unknown. And still he chased her, following the broken reeds and blades that she had carelessly brushed aside.

Soon she stood alone in the clearing, her feet stilled so that he had a chance to reach her. She spread her arms wide as though she planned to take flight, and then she fell, ever so gracefully over the edge of the ravine, peaceful and blissful in her madness, the sunshine gleaming off her hair and making her seem the picture of an angel crashing to earth.

He was close enough now that he could dash forward, skidding forward onto his stomach quick as lightning and catching her wrist before she plummeted to the ground. He held it firmly between both his gloved hands, holding her from death with heavy effort, wincing as her body snapped like a ragdoll at the sudden stop of motion.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and afraid now as though she had just realized the terrible thing that she had done, and his heart ached for her. Her fingers trembled in his grasp as she quaked with fear and he instinctively tightened his grip.

"Ash," she said, her voice shaking. She didn't have to speak further, her face told it all.

"Don't worry," he assured her, despite the fact that he knew his words were ridiculous—how could she not worry? "I've got you."

His arms burned with the effort of holding her up simply by her wrist, but he would rather careen off the edge himself than let go. The pain distracted him and muddled his thoughts as he tried, desperately, to think of a way to pull her to safety. Their position was so precarious that he couldn't imagine moving from where he was right now, and he longed for someone else to help him save her.

"Don't let go," she begged, and shortly he shook his head.

"I promise," he gasped out, gritting his teeth.

Suddenly, the weight seemed to double and he gasped as he lunged forward, her wrist nearly slipping from his white-knuckle grip. His stomach skidded forward on the packed dirt ground, his shirt riding up slightly as he frantically pulled back, confused as to what had happened to make her so much heavier than before, and determined to stop what seemed to be the inevitable.

He peered over the edge and his eyes widened in shock. Hanging from her foot was Brock, Brock who had been nowhere to be seen, but now dangling as helplessly as she was, clutching onto her ankle for dear life. Ash's heart pounded in his chest and he could hear the echo of his ragged breathing in his ears as he strained to keep his grasp and pull backwards, even as her wrist slid further and further so that he was gripping her palm, and then the tips of her fingers.

"No," he grunted, trying to scramble to get a better grip. He was halfway to falling himself now, but he didn't care—his friends looked up at him pleadingly and he would help them no matter what the personal cost.

Slick with sweat, her fingers slid further and further, unstoppable despite his grasping for a better hold on her.

Misty looked at him again with those frantic blue-green eyes, the same color as the water that raced under her and Brock. Misty afraid, Misty panicked, something so rare and something so _tragic_.

"Don't let go," she repeated, and then she slipped, and as suddenly as they had been there they were gone and all that was left in Ash's hands was the cold dry air.

Ash sat up as something bounced off of his head and jerked him roughly to consciousness. The cushion from the passenger's seat landed in front of him, missing Pikachu who was similarly napping in his lap by a mere few inches.

"God, finally," Gary grunted, his feet up on the steering wheel as they cruised forward, not bothering to spare a glance in Ash's direction but rather relying on the sound of his moving to let him know that his attempt at waking him had been successful. "I was getting really sick of listening to you cry out for your girlfriend." He snorted in laughter, and then raised his voice a few octaves in an obvious imitation of Ash. "'Misty, Misty!'"

"Shut up," Ash snapped, rubbing his head where the cushion had hit.

A dream. It had been only a dream.

His face flushed as he realized the rest of Gary's sentence and he couldn't let it go twice, so, while avoiding his rival's eye and making sure that he couldn't see his reddened face, he announced, "And Misty is _not _my girlfriend."

Gary waved a hand a careless hand, smirking. "Oh? Then maybe I should have said your _boyfriend_…there was at least one 'Brock' in there!" He snickered, clearly amused, and Ash leapt to his feet, his fists clenched at his sides in embarrassment.

"Just because _you've _never had a real friend in your whole life, lay off mine!" he snapped, and Pikachu, loyal as ever, leapt to his side in agreement, nodding his head furiously.

Ash hated Gary saying things about Misty and about Brock, because then he was thrust back into his dreamworld where he was holding them up with all his strength and it still wasn't enough, and he could see the terror in Misty's eyes, and yet, some kind of sad understanding as she fell away.

She understood that he wasn't strong enough. That he couldn't help them.

And he had to prove her wrong, and he couldn't do that when Gary cracked jokes like it meant nothing, like _they _meant nothing.

He was distracted, however, from his anger when the boat gave a violent rock and he was knocked off of his feet, landing in an ungraceful heap on the ground while Gary laughed. Pikachu landed with a thud on Ash's back, sprawled on his belly with his paws spread wide.

"Man, being stuck with you is like watching a comedy hour," Gary snickered. "You're a walking one-man bad sitcom."

Ash rolled his eyes, propping himself back up on his knees. Pikachu slid off his back onto the floor of the boat, landing with a light bounce on his bottom. The boat gave another lurch and Ash reached for the back of the passenger's seat for support while Pikachu was unfortunately sent sliding to the other end of the boat.

"What was that?" Ash asked, unable to keep a note of concern out of his voice. The rocks were sharp and violent, not lolling like they had been earlier in their exursion.

"They're waves, Ash. They sometimes occur on the water," Gary replied sarcastically.

"No, it feels like something hit us…" Ash trailed off as the boat was again rocked, not the soothing calming sway of lapping waves but a sharp push as though invisible hands were pushing the little vessel.

"Probably just a passing school of Goldeen," Gary said, obviously not concerned. Ash, on the other hand, kneeled up on the edge of the boat, leaning over the side to peer cautiously into the murky water.

"It's Magikarp!" he exclaimed in surprise. "A whole bunch of Magikarp!"

"See? I told you," Gary replied, more than a trifle smug that he had once again been proven correct.

"No, you don't understand," Ash said distractedly, waving his hand behind him in Gary's general direction. "They're actually _hitting _the boat. On _purpose_."

Gary shrugged, his interest not captured. Ash couldn't completely blame him—Magikarp wasn't exactly the most enthralling Pokemon of them all. "That's because Magikarp are stupid. Maybe you're related to them. Distant cousins?"

"Better that than from the Arbok family," Ash snapped in response, his eyes still cautiously watching the Pokemon that sent their boat rocking back and forth. "We'd better hope Magikarp are the worst of what we get. Some Seakings could do some real damage."

He looked around, noticing that they had left the dock far behind them. "Where are we, anyway?" he asked, somewhat embarrassed that he had no idea where on their route they were, nor how long he had been asleep.

"Heading towards that big, tall thing in the distance," Gary replied casually, nodding out towards the front of the boat.

"What? Where?" Ash exclaimed in shock, clomping to the front of the boat and squinting in order to make out the object Gary had referred to. Sure enough, he could just make out a dark blur off in the distance, partly concealed by the fog rising off the water. He eyed it skeptically—it didn't look like an island, seeming much taller than it was wide. It appeared more like a lighthouse—one, funnily enough, that gave off no light—than an island, and he wondered if Gary had steered them wrong. "Did we already pass the Seafoam Islands? Are you sure that's it?"

"No, I'm not sure that's it," Gary answered with a roll of his eyes. "You didn't tell me anything other than 'past the Seafoam Islands' to some island that may or may not exist!"

"But that doesn't even look like an island," Ash protested, swaying in his spot as the Magikarp continued to flop relentlessly against the side of the boat, as though they hoped to capsize it.

"Yeah, well, take a good look around you, Ashy boy—_that _thing is the _only _thing for miles."

Ash frowned, still not completely convinced of Gary's reasoning, and under his feet the boat gave a mighty lurch, catching air as though it had hit a particularly large wave. He flailed, struggling to keep his balance and not end up toppled over in a heap on the ground as seemed the norm for this particular trip. He had never considered himself prone to seasickness, and he head, in fact, spent a large chunk of his time in the past year on the water traveling from island to island, but this rough ride was proving the exception.

"Oh, for Pete's sakes!" Gary exclaimed, pulling the brake and turning off the motor so that the boat came to a standstill in the middle of the ocean.

Ash frowned, uncertain as to what he had done _now _to cause Gary such irritation. After all, watching Ash flail and try to not fall down usually brought Gary great amusement. "What?" he asked defensively, crossing his arms defiantly as Gary rose to his feet.

But for once it seemed that Gary's annoyance did not lie with Ash at all, and he in fact completely bypassed his rival to move to the edge of their vessel and glare overboard.

"Those stupid Magikarp are going to get caught in the motor if they keep this up!" Gary seethed, reaching blindly to his side for one of the fishing poles that the poor fisherman had managed to load before he found his boat stolen from right under his nose. He brought the pole down hard onto the surface of the water, creating a large smacking sound and a thousand little ripples to erupt from the point of impact. He purposely missed the Magikarp, instead creating a lot of mess and sound. However, the Magikarp did not scatter in fear, as Gary had obviously intended, and instead continued to flop their bodies against the ship like one great mass, repeating their names as a blind mantra.

"Come on!" Gary ground out in frustration, continuing to slap the water forcefully, panting slightly in his exertion as he lifted the fishing ride high over his head.

"Maybe we shouldn't…" Ash said nervously, his eyes darting back and forth as they followed Gary's motions.

"They're just stupid Magikarp," Gary panted. "What are they going to do? Besides get in the way, that is." He brought the rod down swiftly once more. "Ha!" he crowed in triumph when the Magikarp seemed to finally notice the large stick being brought down on them, and in an effort of protecting themselves, they disappeared as swiftly as they had come, flailing and sputtering awkwardly through the water as only this particular Pokemon seemed prone to do. "Got 'em!"

"Yeah, well, I just hope that with all that splashing you were doing, you don't attract something worse, like a school of Seakings or a group of Seadras," Ash replied grumpily. "Professor Oak said that the Pokemon were being unusually aggressive—we could have dealt with the Magikarp but I don't want to see how this boat holds up against an aggressive Horn Drill."

"Whatever," Gary brushed off Ash's concern. "I did us a favor!" he returned the fishing pole to its spot, smug and well-pleased with himself as ever. "And I did them a favor, too—they were going to get trapped under the boat or in the motor." He wiped his hands, satisfied, and returned to his position behind the wheel. "Start up the engine, Ashy."

Gary turned the ignition in the front as Ash revved the engine the way that he had seen Gary do so fluidly and so without thought as they had escaped from the pier. A weary smile broke out across his face when the engine hummed to life, proud of the fact that he was no longer completely clueless and at the mercy of Gary's superior boating knowledge.

But over the sound of the engine's running came a deep, throaty cry that seemed to resonate from within and sent goosebumps all over Ash's body. Distractedly he raised a hand to the back of his neck to touch the hairs that had raised there, paying more attention to the sick feeling that was now working its way into his stomach.

He turned back to Gary. "What was that?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral and calm despite the overwhelming feeling of dread.

"That's the engine," Gary replied dryly, putting the boat into gear.

But he heard it again, a roar that Ash remembered having heard very clearly once, after escaping from the sinking SS Anne, after James had so foolishly abused his Magikarp…

His stomach plummeted. "Gary…" he rasped, his eyes frantically searching the area surrounding their boat for the one Pokemon he dreaded finding them more than any Seaking or Seadra, for their damage always ended up being far, far worse. "Gary, I think we're in trouble…"

"What?" Gary asked, exasperated, stopping the boat again. He got to his feet to join Ash near the engine, his hands on his hips impatiently. "What is it now?"

"I think there's—"

It was like the world exploded from under them, the floorboards of the boat being ripped apart in a violent beam of light, splinters of wood flying everywhere and littering the ocean with their spray.

Ash instinctively cried out, throwing his hands in front of his face for protection as he found himself lifted clear off his feet, suspended for a few dreadful seconds as his body arched through the air, the power of the blast sending all of them off with the force of a rocket. _Like Team Rocket_, he thought grimly, and he wondered if they, too, felt this sensation of dread as they freefell into the unknown every time they were sent 'blasting off again'.

He saw Pikachu's body similarly sail through the air, towards Ash, and he opened his arms instinctively to grasp the Pokemon's small form close for safety. He held tight as they crashed into the icy ocean together. A rush of salt water filled his mouth as he instinctively opened his mouth in a gasp of shock at the sudden temperature change, causing him to gag and cough and sputter. Above him the surface of the water gleamed and lapped lazily, seeming so far out of his reach as water filled his lungs.

Using all his strength, he gripped Pikachu tightly and desperately pumped his legs, which seemed heavy and clumsy in the water, moving in slow motion, pushing up towards fresh air.

Ash's head broke the surface and he gasped for breath, raising his arms so that Pikachu was above the water, as well. Frantically he turned his head from side to side, searching for the boat in the vain hope that it wasn't in complete ruins and might still be able to carry them, and more importantly, searching for Gary.

He could barely see anything over the rolls of the waves that washed into his mouth and stung his eyes, obscuring his vision. He tilted his head back to try and keep his mouth free as the water lapped at his neck, almost animalistic in its attempts to drag him under. "Gary!" he gasped, tiring from the exertion of keeping both himself and Pikachu afloat, and yet still desperately straining his ears in hope of a response. And yet he could hear nothing over his own frantic splashing.

Ash reached blindly down for the Pokeballs at his belt, balancing Pikachu carefully with his free arm as he fumbled for the one that he wanted. He kicked his legs viciously, his head bobbing under the water briefly before surfacing again. "Lapras, I choose you!"

The large water Pokemon erupted from the ball, and gave a little whinny at the sight of its trainer. Ash, on his part, gave a sigh of relief and placed Pikachu on Lapras's back before hoisting himself up as well, scampering up, water dripping from his sneakers and pant legs down the side of Lapras's body.

Safe up on Lapras's back, Ash was able to observe the wreckage left. Pathetic little planks of wood drifted on the waves, all that remained of their boat. The seats and steering and engine had sunk beneath the water, and even the remaining planks were floating away, scattered across the sea.

"So much for returning the boat," Ash lamented to Pikachu. "First Misty's bike and now this. Why does this kind of stuff keep happening to me?" And then he straightened in his seat, his petty worries forgotten as he realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Gary had still not appeared. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Gary! _Gary_!" he hollered, his voice carrying across the vast landscape of nothingness.

Hopefully he scanned the surrounding area for any sign of Gary, but the ocean seemed devoid of any and all life, including Gary, the Magikarp that had been plaguing their boat, and the Gyarados that he assumed had hit them with the Hyper Beam that had put them in this situation in the first place. The waves had stilled to gentle laps that could practically lull him to sleep, and the moon shone brightly off the water's surface. Compared to the madness of the last few minutes, everything was eerily and surprisingly quiet.

There came no response to his call. "Gary!" he cried again, his voice sharp with panic as his eyes frantically darted back and forth, searching for that head of brown hair. "Come on, Gary—haha, you got me. But it's not funny anymore!" But still he did not surface or appear, and Ash's heart sank in disappointment.

He tried to convince himself that Gary was playing a prank, to try and punish Ash for making him come along. But this kind of prank wasn't Gary's style—he was much more likely to do something to _Ash _to pay him back, not pretend that something had happened to _him_. Much more likely was the somber idea that the force of the Hyper Beam had sent Gary in another direction, separated from Ash and Pikachu from the blast. After all, hadn't he seen how far a Pokemon's attack could send Team Rocket? Was it any wonder, then, that they had not been able to stick together and instead found themselves separated?

"What should we do?" Ash asked Pikachu frantically. "What if something happened to Gary? We have to find him!" He slumped against Lapras's back, feeling defeated. "But where do we even start looking for him? He could be anywhere!"

Pikachu, looking very grave, jumped into Ash's lap. "Pika, pikachu," he said, pointing towards the long, thin 'island' that Gary had been heading towards despite Ash's trepidations.

Ash bit his lip. "You think we should just keep going?" He shifted in uncomfortable guilt when Pikachu nodded in response. "But what about Gary?" He might not have liked Gary, or gotten along with him, but he still wanted to make sure that he was safe.

"Chu…" Pikachu replied, patting Lapras's back, and Ash lowered his eyes. It was true, as Pikachu had indicated, that Gary had a number of powerful Pokemon of his own, including a Blastoise, that would be more than capable of ferrying him. In fact, Ash was certain that Gary would be offended at the mere suggestion that he needed Ash's help, or needed to be rescued. And yet, Ash couldn't help but feel responsible. After all, if it hadn't been for him, Gary would be safe at the Pokemon lab back in Pallet Town.

But he felt equally responsible for the safety of Misty and Brock, and there was little question as to who was in greater need of his help. Misty and Brock were up against an insatiable evil, one that needed to be quelled within a very short and quickly approaching time frame, while the ocean seemed rather peaceful and unintimidating at the moment, as they sat there, floating on Lapras.

"But what if he's hurt?" Ash worried out loud. "We didn't even see where he landed!" But this seemed to further drive home Pikachu's point as his eyes hopefully scanned the ocean once more. "He really could be anywhere," he realized.

And really, that was the problem—Gary could be _anywhere_. And at least with the island, if what they saw off in the distance was in fact an island, gave them a starting point. "Hey!" Ash exclaimed, brightening suddenly. "That thing is the only thing around—that's what Gary said. I'm sure that's what he'll head towards!"

"Pikachu!" Pikachu agreed, seeming cheered by this realization, his ears perking back up. And Ash, too, felt cheered and calmer realizing that Gary, having resources just as well as Ash did, would head towards the only object they could see in the whole of the ocean, and he allowed himself to relax, the tension leaving his shoulders.

He shivered slightly in the cool, crisp air, still damp to the bone, and he leaned against Lapras's neck. "I'm sure we'll run into Gary there," he mumbled to Pikachu, already feeling his eyelids drooping with exhaustion.

"Pika," Pikachu nodded, settling down into Ash's lap.

Without the distinction of night and day, his inner clock was thrown off, and he had hardly slept in the last few days, anyway. And so it was little wonder that he drifted as they floated along, hoping for a sleep this time that would be painlessly dreamless.

* * *

It felt as though only a few moments had passed when Lapras let out a small cry, one that shook Ash from his slumber and caused him to blearily peer around at his surroundings. Pikachu, curled up in his lap, raised his head, his ears perking with half-interest at the sudden return to consciousness.

"What's going on?" Ash mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Lapras, why did you stop?" And then he got a good look at what loomed in front of them, and suddenly, it all seemed to make sense.

Gary had been right. It had been an island.

But what neither of them had figured—how could they have possibly _known?_—that it was an island made of ice, a carefully constructed sculpture that up close seemed to extend up to impossible heights, looming threateningly like a strange creature over them. The wind whistled through the caverns that seemed to have been painstakingly carved throughout the tower, leading to the unknown.

Ash hesitately climbed off of Lapras's back, his feet crunching in the snow that had formed around the ice tower, and frowned in confusion. The air was certainly a bit colder on this strange island, but nowhere near cold enough to maintain such a huge sculpture of ice, nor cold enough for snow. And yet there they were, ice and snow in their glory, and Ash was certain that nothing like this had existed before and simply escaped notice.

"Where _are _we?" Ash muttered to Pikachu. He glanced up at the clear sky, searching for what could have led to this frozen island, but there wasn't a cloud to be seen. He wrinkled his brow, confused, and then held out his Pokeball. "Thanks, Lapras. You held up great. Return." And it felt just a bit more isolated, just a bit more foreboding, when the large water Pokemon disappeared in a beam of red light.

"Pika, pikachu," Pikachu insisted, tugging on Ash's pant leg as he hopped uncomfortably from foot to foot. Ash leaned down and picked up Pikachu so that he would not have to walk in the snow with his bare paws, and the Pokemon leapt comfortably up to Ash's hat.

"Right," he said. "Let's go and try to find Gary."

The only sound that accompanied them was the crunch of snow beneath Ash's sneakers and the whistling of the wind as the two slowly started circling the tower, examining the perimeter of the island. "Gary?" he called out hesitantly, afraid to attract attention to their presence, attention from someone or some_thing _other than Gary. But there came no reply at all, from Gary or from another. "Gary!" he called again, a bit louder this time.

It took them only a few minutes to walk around the entire tower and therefore, the entire island. It seemed completely deserted, a frozen tundra that appeared from nowhere, and there was no one and nothing, not Gary nor other human nor Pokemon, appeared to let them know that they were not alone.

A small scratching sound made Ash whirl around, his senses alert and on guard in this strange environment. He stood with every muscles of his body tensed, ready to leap into action or grab Pikachu and run, whichever the situation ended up calling for. "Who's there?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady and firm despite the sudden acceleration of his heart.

It was coming from the ice tower, from a long, wide crack that practically seemed to serve as a doorway. It was a small, but consistent scratching, like something being shaved into the ice. Ash took a small step forward but then stopped, unsure what awaited him inside that tower and unable to see through the shadow. "Hello?" he called again. "Come out, whoever you are!" He had always had a greater fear of the unknown than of what he could see, so he waited on edge for his opponent to reveal themselves.

He saw the ears first, black and perked at attention with those tell-tale rings of yellow. And then the eyes, red and unforgiving and looking at the new intruders with only mild interest before slinking out from the doorway so that he could easily see the Umbreon with its fur so dark a stark contrast against snow so white. And at that moment, he knew that Gary had been right in thinking that this was the place they were searching for.

"It's you!" Ash blurted out without thinking, his mind jumping to the legend that Samuel had told him, and with a gleam in its eyes and a flick of its tail, the Umbreon darted back inside the tower and the darkness, gone as quickly as it had come.

"Hey! Hey, wait!" Ash exclaimed, and without thinking, he took off after the Umbreon. Pikachu leapt down from the top of his hat onto the ground, so that he could easily run on all fours and therefore follow all the better. Ash raced through the break in the ice, all caution forgotten in his pursuit, and in the face of the feeling that this Pokemon was the key to helping his friends, and would lead him to Misty and to Brock.

What he saw, however, when he entered the tower, and his eyes started to adjust to the dark shadows, made him skid to a stop, Pikachu nearly slamming into the back of his legs. "Chu!" he protested in irritation, but then he saw what had captured his master's attention and he, too, fell silent in wonder.

A long staircase stretched in front of them, as long and winding and grand as one that would be found in a palace, except for the fact that this one was constructed completely of ice. It stretched to seemingly impossible heights, dizzyingly circling far out of sight and leading to the unknown. Each step seemed to have been painstakingly carved, and the amount of effort and time needed to build such a structure seemed far above any human ability.

The Umbreon was nowhere to be seen, and Ash's footsteps echoed loudly as he uncertainly approached the staircase. "There doesn't seem to be anywhere else to go…" he said to Pikachu nervously, hoping that the electric Pokemon would have some other option as to where they should go. But he only regarded Ash solemnly, and so Ash cautiously raised his foot and placed it carefully on the first step—first one, and then the other, pressing down to make sure that the ice would support his weight. If it was too thin, he'd rather know it now than later. But the ice neither cracked nor groaned nor bent under his weight, remaining perfectly infallible. Just for extra measure, he gave a small hop, and still, the step stayed as firm as though it were made out of concrete and stone.

"I guess there's nowhere to go…but up," Ash said to Pikachu nervously.

"Pika…" Pikachu agreed uncertainly, and the two started to climb, searching for the Umbreon that seemed to stay elusively out of their path, no matter how quickly nor how far they climbed.

It seemed as though they had been climbing forever, the solid base of the tower left far beyond them, their legs fatigued and their movements tired at this point as they forced themselves to continue up, step after step, hoping for some ending, when finally, _finally _the staircase stopped spiraling and instead led straight up, to another crack in the ice, another makeshift doorway.

"Finally!" Ash gasped, stumbling into a quicker pace despite the throbbing of his legs, relief at seeing something new and having a destination outweighing his exhaustion. Even Pikachu seemed to move faster, despite the fact that he had been sluggishly following many paces behind, his smaller legs overworked.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest at the thought of the fact that he might find what he was looking for at the top of the staircase. He wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for at this point—still Misty and Brock? The Umbreon? Gary?—but something was _there_, and there was something so exhilarating about not having to stumble around in the dark and hope that he came across the right answer.

Adrenaline pumped through his system and he quickened his pace, racing up the last set of stairs and crashing through the opening, and nearly, in his excitement, running off the edge of the steep dropoff that greeted him after only a small stretch of flat, bare ground.

"Ack!" Ash exclaimed, flailing his arms to bring himself to a stop. He fell onto his behind, his feet shooting out from under him, and he slid a bit more so that his feet dangled just over the edge before he came to a full stop. He sat there for a long moment, his pulse racing with shock and fear as to what he had nearly done, and he didn't dare to move until he was sure he was safe. Then, he carefully leaned over and peered off the edge of the cliff, down to where the water rushed in the open ocean below. He gulped—it was quite a long way down to the ocean.

"Pikapi?" Pikachu questioned—he had, on his part, stopped easily on the flat ground that stretched just past the top of the stairs, safe and sound.

"Yeah…" Ash said, his voice coming out as a croak. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, and then continued. "Yeah, Pikachu, I'm fine."

He climbed shakily to his feet, dusting flakes of the powdery snow off his pants. He glanced over the edge again, as though hoping to see something he might have missed before, something that would give him some kind of hint as to where to go next. Because this…this couldn't be _it_. This piece of land, stretching over the ocean, was simply too small and too bare to be what had been awaiting them at the top of such a long staircase.

He spun in a dizzy circle, searching for that elusive hint that he still hoped to find, but all he could see were the shadows that reflected off the ice walls of the tower that curled like a hand around the small clear patch in which Ash and Pikachu stood. It seemed that they had figuratively and literally come to a dead end, and the excitement and relief he had felt upon seeing the opening at the top of the stairs flooded from him, leaving only bitter disappointment. "Come on, Pikachu," Ash said heavily, reluctantly moving towards the stairs. "There's nothing here. Maybe we missed something back at the bottom." His legs gave a pang in protest at the idea of descending all those steps that they had just been forced to climb, and he sighed.

But even more horrifying than the idea that they had missed something at the bottom was the idea that they were at the wrong place entirely. What if this wasn't the island—Ash's suspicions returned over the fact that it was _barely _an island. There seemed to be nothing else as far as the eye could see. If this wasn't it, if they were wrong…then where did they go from here? With a heavy heart and heavy feet, and a hope that they _had_, in fact, missed something at the bottom, Ash took the first step on the journey back to the bottom.

Pikachu, however, fell down on all fours, his nose to the snow as he sniffed suspiciously. "Pikachu?" Ash questioned curiously, but his Pokemon ignored him, inching along the ground towards the wall until he suddenly stopped, standing back up and pointing at the smooth ice with excitement in his eyes.

"Pika! Pikapikachu!" he exclaimed, hopping from one food to the other, pointing wildly.

"What is it?" Ash asked, approaching cautiously to see what had distracted Pikachu so. And as he got close enough to see through the mostly translucent layer of ice, he let out a cry of shock and horror at the realization that what he had dismissed as mere shadow dancing off the walls of the ice was really something else entirely. It was a person.

And not simply any person. It was Misty.

"Misty!" he blurted out instinctively, shocked and horrified to see her so trapped. His hands pressed against the ice, a mere few inches separating them from one another. Her eyes were closed, a peaceful expression on her face and her hands clasped demurely in front of her. Ash couldn't remember ever seeing Misty so quiet, and so still. She was sleeping calmly—his heart plummeted as he prayed feverishly that she was in fact _sleeping_—and his call seemed to disturb her slumber not at all. He ran his hands down along the ice, so cold and solid and so much of a barrier between them, and not a crack in sight that he could use as a starting point.

Reluctantly, still reeling from shock, and almost afraid as to what else he might discover, he moved away from her. He slid his hands along the wall, approaching the other shadows that he had so easily dismissed, an ever-growing sense of horror nagging him profusely. "Brock…" he murmured as he came across his friend, the next shadow, his position, face, and demeanor as peacefully restful as Misty's was. Despite a sick feeling in his stomach, he continued onward. "Daisy…Lily…Violet…" Misty's sisters, in a pretty row, like a tableau from a play. And then, in surprise and rising panic, "Lt. Surge…Erika…Sabrina…Koga…Flint!"

His hands went to his face, covering his eyes, no longer wishing to see, and he took a stumbling step backwards. Ash was unable, for a moment, to face the horrific reality right in front of him. It was all of the Kanto gym leaders, _all _of them, with the exception of the already destroyed and abandoned and therefore closed Viridian Gym. It was the entire League system, that had been planned and perfected for years and years, and it was dismantled right in front of him. And most importantly, they were his _friends_, people who had aided him and he, in his turn, had aided along his journey. They had helped to make him into the trainer he was today, and Misty and Brock, his best friends, had helped to make him into the _person _he was today.

And here they were, so close to him and yet so completely and utterly separate.

Ash found himself standing in front of Misty once more, frozen in time, his circle completed. A spark of rage rumbled in the pit of his stomach, rising up through his chest and spreading like a wildfire through his limbs. His friends…his _friends_, and they were trapped and on display like pretty ice sculptures, as though all this upheaval and destruction that had plagued Kanto in the last few days had been simply so someone could show off a pretty collection.

He raised his fist, fueled by blind anger, and without thinking he plowed his fist into the ice, right above Misty's elbow, expecting to see the ice splinter and shatter around the force of his blow. However, it did not even bend for him, his hit having the same effect as hitting a wall of stone, and he cried out in pain as he reclaimed his throbbing hand. Cradling it close to his chest, rubbing it gently, he incredulously examined the ice, hoping to see at least a crack, but it was as though he had done nothing at all.

Undeterred, he reached for a Pokeball, his failure only making him all the more determined. "Charizard, I choose you!" His Pokemon appeared in front of him, Charizard dwarfing his trainer and Pikachu beside him, and he waited for command impatiently, letting out a roar that filled the small cliff edge with vibrating sound. The fire Pokemon may have decided while in the islands to start listening to Ash, but it still had little patience for the game of waiting.

"Charizard, Flamethrower at that ice!" Ash ordered, pointing at the encasing. "But be careful not to hurt anyone!"

Always pleased with a chance to show off his immense, raw power, Charizard opened his jaws wide and unleashed a torrent of flames. Ash flinched instinctively, afraid that the blast would be too powerful and would burn Misty one of the others, especially as restraining his attacks had never been one of Charizard's strong points. "Careful!" he called in warning when he thought the attack had gone on long enough. Obediently, if a bit reluctantly, Charizard stopped his Flamethrower and when the bright sparks and smog cleared, Ash expected to see his friends set free, the ice helpless under the powerful flame.

But when he could see again, he yelped in shock to see that the wall was still intact and standing strong and thick as before, the Flamethrower seeming to have no effect at all. Almost unable to believe it, he ran over and placed his hands against the ice. "it's not even warm…" he said disbelievingly. "It didn't do anything at all!"

He was forced to duck when Charizard, personally affronted, unleased another fire attack as though to prove himself. Safe on the ground with the flame blazing above him, Ash could tilt back his head and see that the flames bounced off the wall as though ti were made out of stone rather than ice, completely harmless and ineffective.

"I don't understand…" Ash murmured, staring upwards from his crouched position on the ground. "Charizard's Flamethrower should have creamed that thing." He looked helplessly up at Misty and Brock, hoping instinctively that his friends would be able to give him the answers he needed, as they so often did when he found himself stuck. He needed them. But of course, they remained silent spectators to his pitiful rescue attempts, not judging, but not helping.

He rose back to his feet, touching the ice near Misty's hand, the closest he could get to touching her while she was behind this warped sort of display case. "When this is over, you can make fun of me all you want about what a moron I am without you or Brock," he said ruefully, then reconsidered. "Well, mostly you, I guess. You seem to keep me in line pretty well when we're traveling with Tracey." He smiled sadly, "And I'll probably regret saying that, because I know you'll take me up on it, but…it'd be worth it if everything just turned out all right in the end."

Determination renewed, he stepped back, reaching for another Pokeball. "Squirtle, I choose you!" The small turtle Pokemon appeared, and Ash wasted no time in issuing his command. "Squirtle, Pikachu, combine your Water Gun and Thunderbolt to break through!"

His Pokemon obeyed immediately, as eager as Ash was to set Misty, Brock, and the others free. Pikachu's electricity coiled around Squirtle's Water Gun like a snake, creating a fierce crackling sound that ended in a loud bang as it hit the ice wall, and Ash pumped his fist in triumph, certain that this had done it and that the bang had been the sound of the ice finally giving way. But when the smoke cleared, there it stood, still gleaming and still such an unbreakable, undestroyable couple of inches.

"What??" Ash exclaimed in shock and anguish. His eyes flashed with cold anger, so different from the usual anger he would feel after an argument with Misty or even with Gary. This was darker, fiercer, deeper—something that felt suspiciously like hatred for whoever had orchastrated this whole situation. "Try it again!"

Again the blast came, electricity and water, mingling in that familiarly dangerous way, and again it crashed against the wall like a giant fist, one that a simple wall of ice should have caved to easily. Ash was past the point of worrying about hurting Misty and the others—it was obvious that they were not going to be hurt as obvious as it was that his Pokemon's attacks were doing absolutely nothing.

"Again!" he cried, desperate and unwilling to give up, his fists tightening at his side. "Charizard, add your Fire Blast!" He hoped that the addition of another element would be the last factor needed to succeed, that this would be the combination that would set his friends free.

The three Pokemon worked together, each unleashing their most powerful attack, and Ash knew well enough that his Pokemon were, individually very powerful and when he put them together, almost unbeatable. He had fought down the most determined and unyielding of opponents and come out the victor, and yet, in this situation—in _this_, faced with a stupid _wall_—he was helpless.

His legs carried him on their own accord over to Misty, where he fell numbly to his knees, completely exhausted and completely at a loss. He rested his cheek against the cold ice, and the skin there started to tingle, as the temperature or composition had not been changed at all from the attacks.

"What do I do?" he croaked, closing his eyes wearily. "What do I do, Misty?" He waited, as though hoping that the fiery redhead would somehow hear his plea and give him the answer as to how he could possibly help her.

He sensed the presence behind him before he heard the voice, lilting and light and young and yet somehow, completely intimidating where it sent a chill up his spine like a cold finger tracing his back. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up again, and goosebumps erupted all along his arms. Next to him, Pikachu stiffened, and a few sparks of electricity shot from his cheeks, as he was even more intune with the impending danger than his trainer was.

"If you're waiting for an answer, I'm afraid you'll be waiting for a very long time."

Ash took a deep breath, rising slowly to his feet, his eyes still on sleeping Misty's face. _I'll take care of you_, he promised silently, his mouth set in a determined line, the same determination that had led him to so many victories in Pokemon battles, and slowly, bravely, he turned to face the one who had started it all, and to face Lucinda properly at last.

* * *

I'm sorry for everyone who was hoping for Gary to help Ash in the long run! However, he was never planned to be a main character and he has served his purpose. Don't worry about him, though—you WILL find out what happened to him, but not until much later in the story.

Again, my apologies for the long long wait, and I hope it was worth it.

Please leave reviews! Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Hey all. As my note in my profile said, as some may have seen, this chapter was long coming due to final exams/projects, followed by returning to my job as a hostess, and a death in my family. Anyway, I'm not going to make any promises about updating more frequently because those I always break, but I WILL keep updating, so I hope you keep reading and reviewing.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I really appreciate your comments and I always get excited when I get the review alert email.

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 10**

She didn't _look_ intimidating, was the thing of it.

She was older now, and taller, roughly Ash's own age and height, years passed on her in the time frame of a single night. She resembled Misty even more at this age than she had when she had appeared as a little girl, but a more polished, more refined version of Misty, like what Misty might be if she cared more about appearance and propriety than water Pokemon and trekking across the terrain with her friends. Her orange-red hair was longer than Misty's, and instead of tossed into a sloppy side ponytail, it was plaited neatly down her back. Her dress, a soft pink frock that should have clashed with her hair and for some reason didn't, reached down to her knees and had capped sleeves and a belted waist. It seemed sweet and feminine, undeniably a girl's outfit, a delicate girl's outfit, deceptive in the face of all that she was doing.

However, the eyes that Ash had once assumed must be blue-green were instead dark gray, almost black and seemingly empty and soulless, and it was this, much more than clothes or hair, that made her not like Misty at all.

And she still had that air around her that she had had as a ghost child, that aura around her that suggested she was of another, higher world. She seemed not completely real, and she was pretty and young and if not for her eyes and the air of cold, terrible fury that loomed about her, he would mistake her for an angel or a protective spirit. But with eyes so dark and the air so cold, it was clear that she may be of another world, but it was not a world that Ash wished to know at all.

They stood in utter silence for long moments that seemed to drag on forever, each sizing up the other. A thousand questions and demands leapt to the forefront of Ash's mind, and his fists curled instinctively into fists, his teeth gritting in a determined snarl. Lucinda, for her part, seemed unaffected by the fact that the boy standing in front of her was obviously on edge, on the verge of springing into attack. She looked instead only mildly interested, and really, mostly bored, and she didn't speak and she didn't move, seemingly waiting for him.

"Let them go!" he finally spat—it seemed to be the most logical demand, however unlikely it was that it would be granted. Despite it being unlikely, he couldn't bring himself to simply let it go unsaid, and so he glared at her heatedly, hoping to wear her down with the waves of anger he was sending her way.

She raised a single eyebrow, but did not approach. "Oh, I will," she said loftily, shrugging her slim shoulders as though it did not matter very much. "Don't worry. This was just temporary, while I collected them."

"Collected them," he echoed faintly, his head spinning as she actually vocalized what had he been thinking all along—this was a collection, a pretty display, Pokemon trainers all in a neat line like serene statues behind protective encasing.

"Yes," Lucinda confirmed, and she looked admiredly at all she had done, Misty and Brock and the others behind the ice, a great sense of self-satisfaction about her. Dimly in the back of his mind, Ash wondered if she had looked upon the destruction of the gyms with this sense of pride and accomplishment, and he wondered how he was supposed to reason with someone with such a twisted sense of reality.

"Well, you have them," Ash pointed out. "You got them all. You got what you wanted—the Pokemon league is obviously ruined. So you should let them go." The logic was probably flawed, and it was most definitely desperate, but he hoped that she would fall for it.

Lucinda's smile and look of self-satisfaction grew, her eyes twinkled with something almost akin to amusement, something that set Ash's blood aflame. She was _amused _by him, and by his attempts to save his friends. "No," she said casually. "No, I don't think so. And I think you'd better go."

Go? Did she think it was that simple—that he would, that he _could _just turn tail and run?

"No!" he blurted out, almost insulted at the idea after he had come so far and come so close to freeing his friends. "I'm not leaving without them!"

He hated the smug amusement that radiated off of her strong as a Gloom's aroma, the idle curiosity with which she regarded him as though he were a new toy with which she could play with. It was perfectly clear that Lucinda considered him not a threat at all to her plans, and that he was barely on her radar as a person of any sort of interest, and that she was only paying him any mind at all because he had stumbled across her and put himself directly in her path. And so after this declaration, she merely raised an eyebrow at him, not impressed in the slightest.

"No, I think you will be leaving without them," she replied simply and smoothly, barely a hint of malice in her tone. She sounded matter-of-fact, as though Ash were denying a simple truth. "I'm not finished here, unfortunately."

Trembling with barely-contained emotion and raw fury, Ash ignored her and whirled back to face his Pokemon, who were dumbfounded at the latest turn of events—even Charizard could only numbly watch the exchange, confounded at the appearance of a rival with such a disinterest. "Charizard, Squirtle, Pikachu—aim your attacks at the ice again!"

Lucinda didn't try to stop him, nor did she express any sort of anger or any hint that she was thinking of attacking in retaliation when Charizard led the pack and fearlessly unleashed another fire attack, followed shortly after by the electric and water blast the other two provided. She did not send out any of those Pokemon that he had seen at the Cerulean Gym that had been so powerful and reduced the gym to rubbles, nor did the Umbreon that had led him to the top of this tower reappear. Her indifference only fed his determination, and he watched with grim satisfaction as the torrent of attacks slammed against the ice, sending sparks and steam across the small clearing.

He wasn't sure why he had thought this time would be different—perhaps because Lucinda had finally appeared—but the feeling of bitter disappointment when the smoke cleared and showed that once again his attempts had been in vain cut even deeper than it had the first time. Perhaps his disappointment and distress at having failed in front of his adversary only fed his disappointment that he could not help his friends.

"Come _on_!" he yelled in frustration, his voice echoing off the ice walls and filling the area with sound. He started forlornly at Misty, trapped behind the ice and trapped in time, immobile and silent. He almost wished that she could yell at him for failing, because perhaps her yelling would do something to relieve the enormous amount of guilt that seemed to rest upon his shoulders. More than that, he wished that

"I don't…I don't understand why it isn't working…" he whispered as though the gently blowing wind would provide him with any answer—for he knew for certain that Lucinda would not. In a gesture of what felt like defeat, he held out the Pokeballs to recall his Pokemon. "Squirtle, Charizard…return."

Ash turned sharply, leaving Pikachu standing behind him, leaving Misty behind him, to face Lucinda once more. He looked at her, searching, he hoped, for some sort of humanity in her face—Samuel had told him of her history, and he knew that she did not just sprout from the ground like a demon from hell—she had been a _person_, and therefore shouldn't she have some sort of human compassion?

"Please," he begged, hoping for that little bit, that small inkling of a girl who had grown up without a family, "please, just let them go." And, suddenly, with bravado he didn't feel but the self-sacrifice that always seemed to explode from him, he blurted out, "Let me take their place."

Her laughter was like tinkling crystals, a light and airy sound. "_You_?" she asked, her voice thick with amusement. "_You _want to take their place?"

Despite his heart thudding somewhere up near his throat, he nodded without hesitation. "Yes," he said firmly, and he glanced over his shoulder at Misty and Brock—his best friends, who had always been there for him when he needed them. And now it was his turn. He looked back at Lucinda, and repeated his answer. "Yes."

"Oh, little boy," Lucinda cooed, her words seeming odd considering the fact that she seemed, at the moment, to be no older than he was and therefore in no position to refer to him as a 'little boy'. "What would I want with you, hmm? Just like all the others, talentless nobodies who think beating eight gyms makes you a _master_. All cluelessly aspiring for that lofty title, as though any of you had any idea what it took, what it _really _took, to be a master! What would I want with you? On a whim, I could have a hundred, a thousand, just like you. You're nothing special," she sneered, and Ash bristled at this arrogant and dismissive view of him and all his fellow trainers who shared his dream.

"Just because we don't resort to kidnapping and…and blowing up gyms doesn't mean we're not dedicated, and doesn't mean we won't be masters someday." He hesitated, and then, boldly, against his better judgement, he declared, "We'll be greater masters than you ever were or could be, because we'll do it honestly and fairly."

As the words left his mouth, despite his belief in the truth of them, he immediately wondered if he had made a fatal mistake. He had, after all, already see the extent of her power first hand. But he had never been one to stop and consider the consequences, and he had never been one to tailor what he had to say based on the circumstances of the situation, and he could not help but tell his woman that more than Gary, more than Team Rocket, she represented everything he hoped to never become.

Still, he hoped that these wouldn't be the words that caused her to lash out. Not yet, when his friends were still trapped.

But to his surprise, Lucinda only looked even more amused, a cat toying with the mouse before devouring it whole. "Oh, you'll be great masters," she chuckled, then gave him a disdainful look. "You who can't even save your friends. Pathetic." She touched the ice wall that was causing him so much trouble, her fingers running feather light over it, admiring her handiwork. "I've worked my entire life to perfect my craft," she confided in him. "And you can't even get around this little obstacle? You're not worthy to even call yourself a trainer, much less a future master."

It was this insult that struck him to the core, as well as the reminder that he was failing to save his friends. He flew blindly at her, all restraint lost, the idea of Pokemon forgotten as he prepared to fight in that most primitive urge to protect his own. "Let them _go_!" he declared again, the demand ripping from his throat as his fists flew of their own accord in her direction. He had never been one to hit a girl, but the more he spoke to her, the more he was certain that she was no girl, and therefore not worthy of any special consideration.

This seemed to be her breaking point, where her amusement at his frustration ended and her irritation at his persistence began. Her eyes seemed to flash in their rage, and she caught his flailing fist in her palm, her grip almost inhumanly strong, and Ash let out a cry of surprise and pain as her hand closed around his glove, crushing and immobilizing him, stopping him before he could land so much as a finger on her and stopping him in his tracks all together.

"I was kind enough to let you leave," her voice, colder than the snow around them, her hand crushing his as easily as though she were made out of steel. She took an intimidating step forward, and he had no choice but to stumble backwards, easily outmatched by her. It was eerie, how strong she was when she _looked_, physically, so petite.

"Pikapi!" Pikachu exclaimed, rushing forward instinctively to protect his trainer, electricity surging from his cheeks.

"Pikachu, no," Ash ground out through gritted teeth, his heart quivering in fear at the idea of what this strange entity who surprised him with new power at every turn could do to his Pokemon when he jumped to his defense. Seeing the destruction of the gyms, seeing the strength of the walls his friends were trapped behind, and feeling her physical power right now, he was sure that even Pikachu's incredible power wouldn't be able to match up. "You'll get hurt!"

"Better listen," Lucinda told Pikachu tauntingly, her grip tightening around Ash's glove, and he let out a little hiss of pain, trying to keep his face calm and not give away how badly she was hurting him. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of his crying out again.

"And as for you," her voice was back to almost casual again, which belied the tight grip she had on him, and the menacing steps she kept taking, forcing him back…back…back…away from Misty and away from Brock and the rest of the trainers, and away from his Pokemon. "You're out of your league, little boy."

"I'm not leaving without her," he ground out instinctively, his feet skidding backwards on the slippery, padded snow, and as soon as the word left his mouth, he wondered where it had come from. "Them," he quickly corrected himself, but he noticed that her interest seemed captured.

"Her?" Lucinda echoed, crowing in delight, her delicate eyebrows raised and her grip still firm. "_Her_? Is the little master-in-training carrying a torch for one of the dolls in my pretty collection?" She laughed in glee, his slip obviously bringing her more amusement than anything he had said previously.

Ash felt his face flush red in embarrassment and anger as Lucinda taunted him. His heart thumped somewhere around his stomach as she smirked, completely unrelated to the present danger and instead related to his slip of tongue. "I'm not leaving without my friends," he boldly declared, focusing on the group as a whole instead of letting Lucinda know who had had been referring to. Even if he _had _meant 'her' instead of 'them'—and really, he _had _meant 'them', as in them all—he didn't want to single out anyone from the rest of the group.

Including Misty.

He tried to push back against her, to at least stop himself from falling further and further back, taking steps despite himself. But she simply outmatched him, and his arm shook violently from the effort, whereas her brow remained smooth and her muscles relaxed as though it took no effort at all to not just keep him at bay, but force him backwards as well.

Lucinda's lips curled up in what could be called a smile, but it was so full of smug self-satisfaction and coldness that he couldn't bring himself to think of it as something as carefree and happy as a _smile_. "I'm afraid," she said, in that sweet voice of hers that belied what she was about to do, "that you don't have a choice."

And she gave a final push of his glove with that superhuman strength that she had displayed, pushing him backwards, and his foot slipped off the edge of the cliff, where his feet had dangled less than an hour ago when he had run to the top full of so much hope that his search had come to an end.

He instinctively yelled out as he lost his footing, the solid ground falling away from him and his feet scrambling for purchase on the inky dark air that stretched down far, far. His hands shot out of their own accord, as throbbing as his fist was, and he grabbed onto the edge of the cliff, his arms holding him suspended and saving him from a plunge into the dark water below.

Ash's nails dug into the icy surface, his arms already starting to ache from the effort of holding up his entire body.

"Pikachu!" Pikachu exclaimed, rushing over despite earlier warning to stay back and putting his small paws on his trainer's hands, trying to hoist him back onto the cliff, all his effort producing little effect. "Pi…ka…" he gasped with the effort, his feet scrambling for purchase on the snow-covered ground as he tried to pull Ash upwards.

His hands slipped a bit back, closer to the edge, and he grabbed onto the lip of the cliff with all his might. He dropped his head back in frustration, his teeth tightly gritted in pain. He couldn't pull his whole weight back over the cliff, and Pikachu certainly couldn't pull him back over.

"If I could just reach…Bulbasaur's Pokeball…" Ash panted, his face and neck damp with sweat from the effort to keep himself from falling. But despite the fact that the Pokeball was right on his belt, the idea of letting go of the cliff with even one hand was simply terrifying. As tired as he was, he knew that there was no chance he could keep himself up with only one hand. However, there was still even less of a chance of him being able to pull himself up, even with whatever help Pikachu tried to offer, and therefore it seemed that he had no other choice.

After another moment of hanging there, hoping that some other solution would come to him, Ash finally steeled himself for the inevitable. Quick as lightening, he snatched one of his hands away from the edge, letting himself hang by only one arm, his shoulder socket screaming in protest with the sudden additional strain. Already his hand started slipping away, and he knew it would only be a few moments before he plunged into the choppy water that lapped angrily below him. He reached quickly down to his belt, pulling out Bulbasaur's Pokeball. "Bulbasaur, I choose you!" he yelled, throwing the Pokeball blindly up onto the cliff's edge above him, as his fingers continued to slip and lose purchase on the icy surface.

Barely keeping himself up, his fingers cramped and frozen from the cold snow against them, Ash was glad to see Bulbasaur appear just in time and seem to realize quickly enough what he had been called out to do, and those vines that he had come to rely on stretched down towards him like a trusting hand, wrapping around his waist so that Ash could let go of the cliff.

Pikachu held onto Bulbasaur's back, using their weight as anchorage as Bulbasaur pulled their trainer back onto the cliff, his near disaster averted. For a moment Ash stayed flat on his back as Bulbasaur withdrew his vines, relieved to be back on solid ground, staring up at the dark sky, safe and sound. His breath came in harsh gasps as his heart rate slowly returned to normal, and he kept his palms pressed against the snow, the coldness soothing against his aching fingers and the solidness reassuring to him after dangling out over the edge.

And then he remembered that he was still close to the very person who had _pushed _him and therefore put him in such a precarious situation, and with a surge of renewed energy he leapt to his feet, spinning sharply so that his back was to the edge of the cliff he had just been pulled back over, ready to defend himself against Lucinda once more, knowing now not to make the mistake of coming within touching distance.

He was alone.

And it was simply not Lucinda who had disappeared as quietly and unnoticed as she had appeared—from behind those ice walls that had acted as unbreakable display cases, Misty, Brock, Misty's sisters, and the rest of the Kanto gym leaders had vanished too, as though they had never been there at all.

"Wha…where…" Ash gaped, turning in a dizzy circle in the spot, as though expecting Lucinda to jump out at him and take him by surprise. But the only ones who remained were Pikachu and Bulbasaur, staring at him with confused eyes, the same question on all of their minds.

"Where did they go?" he asked, his voice a bit pitiful as he approached the place where Misty had been mere moments ago. He pressed his hands against the ice, wondering with a sinking heart if it was breakable now that there was nothing—and nobody—behind it that Lucinda wanted to prevent him from getting to. "What did she do with them?" he asked his own reflection, mirrored back at him off the ice.

His fist connected suddenly with the ice, and Pikahu and Bulbasaur jumped a bit in surprise at Ash's sudden show of aggression. "What do I do _now_?" he demanded angrily of no one in particular. "They were right here…" he stared into the emptiness where his friends had once been, so close to him, close enough to make things right again. "And now they're gone." He pressed his palms against the wall in defeat. "And I…" his voice caught a bit, and he cleared his throat around the lump that seemed to have risen from nowhere. "I don't know where they went."

They had been right there—so close that only a few inches had separated his hand from Misty's—and he had acted before he had thought and now they were gone. It was his fault again, his fault that his friends were still in trouble, perhaps even worse trouble than they had been in before. "I screwed up again…" he murmured, his palms against the ice. Unable to face the physical reminder of his failure, he turned his back to the wall, pressing up against it, and slowly slid down to sit down on the snow, his head in his hands, a defeated expression on his face.

He had been so sure that he had reached the end of the journey, when he had come to the top of the clearing and seen Misty and Brock and all the others trapped behind the ice. He had thought it would only been a matter of moments before he had them freed and they were all on their way again.

He had thought that when—and if—he faced Lucinda, he would have Misty and Brock by his side to help him. And when she had maneuvered him so easily to the edge of the cliff and pushed him so carelessly off, and taken the opportunity to make a swift and silent exit, it had only reinforced what he had known all along—that he _needed _his friends. He wasn't one to face an opponent alone. While he could always muster the nerve, when it came to formulating a plan of attack, to considering options and alternatives, and to employing simple common sense…that was where Misty and Brock had always proved so invaluable in the past. And now his carelessness had cost him more time, had cost his friends more time, and he didn't know where they were now or how to find them.

And as Samuel had told him, time was slipping away quickly, and only a few days stood between him and eternal night.

* * *

_Misty_.

_Misty. _

_Wake up_.

"Come on, Misty."

The voice beckoned her back to consciousness, and Misty slowly, groggily opened her eyes, coming back from what felt like a very deep sleep. Her arms and legs, sprawled out in every direction against the ground on which she had been lying, felt heavy and useless as though she had been drugged. And she was cold, she realized suddenly, starting to shiver as she looked around to see the source of the voice that had called her.

Not that voices calling her had done her much good lately.

But it was only Brock, kneeling up next to her, peering into her face cautiously, and his anxious expression relaxed as her eyes met his.

"Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"

"Where…" she cleared her throat; it was scratchy and dry from disuse, "where are we?"

He gave a little laugh at that, sitting back on his heels now that he knew his friend was awake and alert. "Beats me," he said ruefully. "Sit up, you'll freeze to death."

"What? Oh…"

As she sat up, Misty realized that she had been sprawled on her back on the snow, which would explain the damp chill, and she pinched a few flakes between her fingers while wrinkling her brow, trying to determine if it was real or not. "Snow…" she murmured, and then looked up.

She started to see that a glass dome surrounded them, and she had the sudden, unsettling feeling of being enclosed in a snow globe. "Where did it come from?" she wondered softly to herself, her eyes wide in confusion as she gazed at the all-encompassing glass. "It's not the season for snow…" And in addition to the weather not being suited for snow, with a globe surrounding them on all sides, how had the snow even gotten there in the first place?

She dropped the snowflakes and now took a bit of skin on her arm between her fingers, pinching lightly. She winced—it hurt. So much for the theory that she was dreaming…she sighed.

"Like, you think the weirdest part of this is the _snow_?" Misty raised her head as a new voice spoke and saw her sisters standing in a row a few feet away from her and Brock, with their arms crossed, absurdly sour expressions on their faces. _That's right, my sisters were there…_Slowly her eyes took them in and traveled from Daisy, Violet, and Lily, past Brock…and to Erika, and then Blaine, and Koga, and Sabrina, and the enormous Lt. Surge towering over them all.

Her eyes widened in alarm.

"I…" she trailed off, confused, and then looked up at Brock from her sitting position on the ground, hoping that he would have the answers that he so often provided to his younger traveling companions. "I don't understand what's going on. Where are we?"

Brock took her arm and helped her scramble to her feet, and she dusted the snow from her shorts and legs. "I don't know," Brock admitted, and Misty's heart sank at this words. "Last thing _I _remember, we were in the Cerulean gym."

"Yeah, but _all _of us weren't there!" Misty exclaimed, gesturing around the crowd of gym leaders, seemingly gathered together for no purpose. "How did we all get here?" She got up and paced a few feet back and forth. "The gym…we were in the gym…" Samuel's story leapt to the forefront of her mind, and she gripped Brock's arm instinctively. "Brock, something terrible is going on! Samuel told me…"

But her voice trailed off as she realized the absence of her red backpack, which would have stood out against the piles of white snow. "And hey! Where's my backpack? Where are my Pokemon?" She whipped around quickly, hoping that she somehow had missed it, but the glint of red was nowhere to be seen.

"They're all gone," Brock said solemnly, his voice heavy in his own distress. "None of us have them."

"They're _gone_?" Misty fairly wailed. "Gone _where_?"

"I don't know, Misty!" There was a hint of impatience to Brock's voice now. "We're all just as confused as you are!"

"Yeah, we just like, woke up sooner," Lily said with a roll of her eyes.

"Even Togepi is gone…" Misty whimpered, her eyes filling with tears despite herself. She turned quickly and wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself in her moment of weakness. "Brock, Togepi's just a baby, it can't care for itself!" She shook her fists in anger, her entire body trembling in her rage that would normally make anyone cower. "Oooh, I can't believe she took our Pokemon!"

"She who?" Violet asked, but she didn't look terribly interested in her little sister's rantings.

"Well, hopefully they're all together and taking care of one another," Brock said reassuringly, although his voice sounded doubtful.

"At least Pikachu…" Then Misty's voice trailed off as she scanned the trainers crammed under the dome with her as she realized that an important member of their party was absent. "Brock, where's Ash?"

Brock looked around as though hoping that one of the other gym leaders would help him, but they all stared blankly back at him, no better informed than he was. "He's not here, Misty," he said gently.

"Not here?" Misty repeated, her voice thick with confusion. "But then…where is he? Why isn't he here? He was with us at the gym!"

"Misty," he said, in his best attempt at a soothing voice. "Look, we're all as confused and upset as you are, and none of us know what's going on or where we are, and none of us, including me, know where Ash is or why he's not here, too."

Angrily, she kicked at the snow at her feet—if there was one thing that Misty hated, it was being out of the loop, and Brock's lack of answers only served to frustrate her further. "And how did we end up in this big stupid glass _snow globe _thing, anyway?" she snapped, storming over to one of the walls and pushing her palms against it, as though expecting it to yield to her.

This idea lasted only a second before she quickly withdrew her hands in surprise. "Ack! It's cold!" she exclaimed, rubbing her palms together in order to bring warmth back to them.

"That's because it's not glass," Brock said practically. "It's ice."

"Ice?" she repeated, baffled. She put a hand on her forehead, near her temple, and flopped back down onto her behind. "This is giving me a headache," she mumbled, drawing in her knees so that she could grip her hair with both hands, giving a little tug as though it would clear her mind.

"I know," Brock sighed. He sat back down next to her, and for a moment the two stared forward at the ice that surrounded them on all sides, encasing them in some sort of odd display as though they were toys in a make-believe land of snow.

"Do you think we've been shrunk down?" Misty asked suddenly, the idea occurring to her.

"You mean like my dollhouse?" It was Sabrina who spoke up now, and she seemed completely unembarrassed to reference back to when she shrunk the two in front of her to doll-size, although she offered Misty an almost sheepish smile when she turned to look at her.

There was certainly no sense in giving her a hard time about it now, so after a brief hesitation, all Misty did in response was nod. "Like the dollhouse," she confirmed.

Brock tilted his head to the side, considering the idea. "It's possible, although it's hard to tell when we don't have anything outside to compare our size with."

To confirm this, Misty climbed to her feet a second time, wandering back over to the wall and pressing her face against the ice, wincing as the cold bit into her skin. She squinted, trying to see through the fogged ice to the outside world, hoping to see someone or something that could, if not help them, at least provide them with some clue as to what situation they had wandered into.

But there was nowhere and nothing out there, not a person or a single object on the landscape; instead they seemed trapped in the middle of a vast wasteland of nothingness. "Hello?" she called hopefully, and her voice echoed around the dome, not even penetrating through the ice to the outside world.

"I wouldn't do that," Brock said grimly. "Even if someone could hear us, it might not be someone we _want _to hear us."

A chill ran down Misty's spine, one that she blamed on the cool temperature and the fact that her clothes weren't appropriate for the new weather they found themselves in. She rubbed her arms vigorously, clinging to this explanation rather than the nagging voice at the back of her mind that whispered '_you're afraid'_.

Samuel had told her terrible things, about Lucinda and the legend that she would come back, and she hadn't believed it until the sun hadn't risen and until Pewter City Gym had fallen. It had all seemed so much less real when they had been traveling along in the bright sunlight, instead of trapped under ice under a darkened sky.

"What…what do you mean?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she tried to gauge how much Brock knew.

"Well," he replied solemnly, "we got here somehow, and it wasn't by ourselves."

Misty bit her lip and rubbed her arms harder before turning back to the wall of the dome, looking out forlornly. "Do you think Ash is all right?" she asked softly, abandoning her thoughts of Lucinda for a moment, and addressing Brock but speaking more to herself than to anyone else. She scanned the barren stretch of earth, as though hoping to see a flash of black hair amongst all that white.

"I don't…" Brock hesitated, and then seemed to change his mind, and he boldly declared, "I'm sure he's fine. He has a way of coming out of all kinds of messes without a scrape, doesn't he? He already managed to not get stuck here with us, didn't he?"

"He fell into the pool," Misty murmured, remembering. "He was with us at the gym when it collapsed…" Her stomach plummeted as though she were on a roller coaster ride. "You don't think…you don't think something happened to him? That he was hurt? Or…" she trailed off—she couldn't bring herself to say the words. If she insinuated that something terrible had happened, that Ash was somehow _gone _from them, she was fairly sure she would throw up. Saying the words out loud made it possible for it to be real.

"No," Brock said firmly, and even if he didn't believe what he was saying, Misty appreciated the conviction in his voice, and was glad that he could at least pretend for her. "Not Ash. I'm sure he's fine."

Misty pressed her hands against the ice, her heart heavy as she thought of Ash out there, by himself, without their help. Even objectively, without all the things that annoyed her about him clouding her judgment, she knew that while he had a good heart and a lot of courage, common sense and cunning were not traits that he had in spades. "I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid," she said, and she meant it not as an insult for once, but honestly and pleadingly—_please, please, Ash, don't do anything stupid_.

"Forget about him!" Blaine declared from across the dome, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Wherever your friend Ash is, he's out _there _and therefore in better shape than we are in _here_. And without our Pokemon, we're sitting ducks."

"Sitting ducks for what?" Erika's voice was pitched higher than normal with fear, and Blaine rubbed his face tiredly.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Sitting ducks for whatever brought us here."

"But who?" Erika pressed, despite Brock's previous assertion that no one knew any more than she did. "And why?"

Blaine gave her a twisted smile, and Misty was reminded suddenly and unpleasantly just how strange the Cinnabar Island gym leader had always come across. "That's the million dollar question, isn't it, little lady?"

Looking around at her fellow gym leaders, people she had heard of since she was small, those who were part of that innermost League circle that helped turn nobodies into masters, Misty took a deep breath.

"I think I know," she spoke softly, and suddenly all eyes were on her, waiting for her to tell her story and shed some light on this darkened night.

So, to answer a previous question, yes, you will get to spend some time with Brock and Misty and the others!

I have to confess—even all of the troubles I've encountered in the last month aside, I'm just a slow writer. I can usually only sit down and write a few hundred words at a time. However, I do promise to keep updating, and hope that you will stick with me through the waiting.

Please leave reviews, and I'll see you guys next time! Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

Ash loved riding on Charizard's back

A/N: Hey guys! This chapter actually took less than a month to write! Woohoo!

I'm going to keep it short up here but please check out the notes I've left at the end of the chapter.

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 11**

Ash loved riding on Charizard's back. He'd never let the fiery Pokemon know that—if he knew how much he enjoyed it, he'd never let him do it again. But there was something about hearing the steady beat of his wings, of clinging to his neck and feeling his powerful body move effortlessly through the sky.

Of course, he hadn't enjoyed it back before Charizard had started listening to him, because then he had spent the entire time worrying that he was about to be thrown off.

He couldn't enjoy the ride today, though, as he clung on, Pikachu tucked between his arms and holding onto Charizard's neck as the three flew high over the island of ice. Instead his mind was clouded with thoughts of Misty and Brock, and it was them that his eyes searched desperately for, hoping that an aerial view would provide him with some sort of advantage.

But the island was deserted now, it seemed, and Ash was almost afraid that if he didn't keep a constant eye on it, it would disappear completely, as suddenly as it had appeared. And it was hard to keep alert, and keep his hope alive, when all that greeted him at every circling was cold silence. But he feared that the moment he let his guard down would be the moment he'd miss seeing a glimpse of one of his friends, or worse, find himself attacked from the air by Lucinda.

Charizard's wings gave a bit of a shudder, and Ash gripped all the more tightly instinctively as they dropped a few feet. He sighed; they had been circling for quite some time now, and it was obvious that his Pokemon was getting tired. "Let's land for a little bit," he suggested, wisely not calling attention to Charizard's obvious exhaustion, knowing full well the fire Pokemon's habit for pushing himself beyond his own limits.

Charizard seemed compliant to this suggestion, and he swooped lazily down to the clearing they had occupied not too long ago. He refused to lie down on the damp snow, so Ash and Pikachu had to slide the long distance down his back to the ground, where they fell with a light thud on their behinds, the snow crunching beneath them.

Ash fell back onto his back once he was safely on the ground, looking up at the night sky, feeling the snow creep under his hat and beneath the collar of his jacket, chilling him. "I don't know what to do," he murmured to himself. He gathered fistfuls of snow, letting the flakes dribble through his gloves. "But so what else is new?" he muttered bitterly, full of disgust for how quickly he had let everything slip from his control.

Next to him, Charizard gave an impatient, displeased grunt, and Ash realized that his fire Pokemon probably wasn't enjoying the climate. "Oh, sorry," he said, and held out his Pokeball. "Thanks, Charizard. Return."

But without the large Pokemon next to them, it felt even more lonely and isolated, atop that tiny island, surrounded by ice that was now empty and stretched past him in a bare landscape.

Maybe Ash wasn't normally the thinker of brilliant ideas, but he normally was able to think of _something _to do when confronted by an enemy. But that was just the problem—he wasn't confronted in this situation. Lucinda seemed to move in the shadows of her perpetual night, always taking him by surprise, always striking and appearing when he didn't expect it.

He rolled over onto his stomach to face the ice wall that his friends had been trapped behind, not so long ago at all. It stretched empty and barren in front of him, a toothless smile, mocking him, reminding him that he had lost them again.

He stood up again, walking over to the edge of the cliff, making sure to keep a safe distance between himself and the edge this time. He squinted and gazed out into the inky blackness, but he couldn't see anything and his vision wasn't any improved standing on the clearing than it had been flying through the air.

"Where do you think they went, Pikachu?" he asked, a bit desperately. But he thought his desperation was well-founded…the world was so big, and he was only one person. One person who, according to Lucinda, mattered not at all. He glanced down at his hands, at his bare wrists. "I don't even have a watch. I don't even know how much time I have left."

He should have listened to Misty when she had wanted to talk to him back at the beginning. But he had been so desperate not to get mixed up in this mess…and now here he was, technically free to go and do whatever he wished with no obligation to 'save the world' this time, and all he wanted as for Lucinda to appear in front of him again so that he could follow her path back to his friends. Because when he had said _he _didn't want to get involved, he had meant that he hadn't wanted _any _of them to get involved, including Brock and Misty. And he wasn't willing to turn his back on them—ever.

"Man, Pikachu," he groaned. "Misty's never going to let me live this one down."

But he would happily listen to Misty berate him for the rest of eternity, if only he could find her and the others.

If only he knew where to start.

And so he sat back down, resting his head wearily in his hands, the spot where it had all began feeling oddly appropriate to wait for the sign, the sign he prayed was somehow coming, the sign that would tell him what to do next.

* * *

Misty hated having her hair played with.

There was a _reason _she kept it up in the messy ponytail. It was easy, and stayed out of her way, and it took next to no time at all. Sometimes she got the urge to just hack it all off—that was why she kept it fairly short—but then her better judgment as well as her girly side would kick in and remind her that she would look completely _awful _without at least some of that messy orange-red mass of hair upon her head.

But Lily had insisted, of course she had. God forbid any of her sisters realize the dire situation they found themselves in and actually tried to plot a way to escape. Oh, no, clearly it was a much better idea to pass the time running her fingers through her little sister's hair, using her hand as a makeshift comb, before trying to plait the messy hair into a neat braid, accursing how short and tangled it was.

Although, on the other hand, Misty had to admit, however begrudgingly—it wasn't as though there was much else that they could do at this point, except watch the shifting landscape.

And that was the strange thing that she had noticed, since being trapped under this globe—the outside world, ever barren and ever deserted, seemed to shift and ebb and flow, as though it were not quite real, not quite corporeal. She would swear that a certain formation in the distance had been visible from one direction, only to turn around and find it on the other side of the globe. Sometimes it seemed snowy outside, and sometimes it seemed dry and rocky.

Her sisters said she was going crazy, and even Brock didn't seem to notice, though by his own admission he wasn't paying careful attention to the ground outside of their little dome. It only served to make Misty feel all the more unsettled, because now she didn't know what lay beyond the dome they were trapped under. And having not met Lucinda, but only heard the stories that Samuel had told her, she was fairly sure that that was the point.

As terrible as being trapped was, the unknown was even more frightening.

"Ouch!" Misty exclaimed, jerking away from Lily. "You're pulling!"

"Like, it's not _my _fault that you haven't used a hairbrush since you were like, nine," Lily snapped in response, withdrawing her hands and rolling her eyes.

Misty scowled. "I have _too_!" she insisted with that all-too-familiar sibling bickering. Huffy, she stood up, tugging, annoyed, at the back of her braid. But Lily had managed to force the short, above-the-shoulder cut into a tight plait, safe from her clawing hands, and she had a smug expression on her face, like she knew that Misty was no match for the job she had done.

Brock stared as she wandered over, looking up from where he had been talking quietly with Erika—Misty, personally, was amazed that Brock was managing to string a sentence together around a pretty girl, but maybe their dire situation had grounded even him.

"What happened to your hair?" he asked, wrinkling his brow, and Misty scowled, tugging on it again.

"Lily happened," she grumbled, and Erika smiled.

"I think it looks sweet," she offered, and Misty resisted the urge to roll her eyes—'sweet' hair was not exactly her top priority at the moment, but there was no need to take her frustration out on Erika.

"Um. Thanks," she said, plopping back down on the ground, now far away and safe from her sisters. Erika and Brock (Brock, Misty noticed, looked slightly disgruntled at her interruption, as though she were the intruding little sister) shifted away in order to give her room to sit, and Misty propped her arms up on her thighs, and then winced as her elbows came down on something hard.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed in surprise, rubbing the bone.

"What's wrong?" Brock asked, puzzled at her outburst.

"Something in my pocket…" Misty murmured, and she burrowed her hand into the pocket of her jean shorts, and to her surprise, withdrew a small, intricate gold cylinder, one that had caused her so much confusion for the small amount of time that it had been in her possession. "I forgot that I put this in my pocket!" she exclaimed, running her fingers along in. "I thought I left it in my backpack!"

"What is it?" Erika asked, looking torn between the desire to reach out and touch something so pretty and interesting looking and the newfound caution born of their predicament.

"It's…it's something Samuel gave me," she said, referencing the man that she had told all the leaders about in order to explain Lucinda and how Misty came to know her story. "After he told me about Lucinda. He said it was a weapon."

"A weapon?" Brock perked up at this, and without asking, took it from Misty's hands. "You didn't say anything about a weapon!"

Misty instinctively snatched it back. "I forgot about it," she said defensively. "And I thought I had left it in my backpack, not in my pocket. I didn't even know I had it on me."

"Well, that solves all our problems!" Brock crowed triumphantly. "I thought we were sitting ducks, but there's a weapon!" And he didn't even seem to be mocking her—unfortunately, he really seemed to believe that Misty held the solution to all their problems, right in the palm of her hands.

Misty glanced down at the small tube in her hands, looking so puny and useless. "Yeah…there's a weapon all right," she replied ruefully.

Erika, however, looked skeptical, and her uncertain look grew as Misty spoke. "Do you know how to use it?" she asked doubtfully. "How it works?"

"I…" Misty hesitated, a bit reluctant to admit that in the case of this 'weapon', she was as clueless as Brock, Erika, and all the rest. She turned it over in her hands a few times, as she had done in that field at a time that seemed so long gone now, searching again for some hidden switch or button, and yet there was none to be found. "I'm not…sure…"

Brock took it back again, almost like a game of tug of war. He examined it from one end to the other, holding up the cylinder and peering at the end as though it were a telescope. "It's just some gold tube." Annoyed, he tapped it sharply against the ground as though this would lead to something giving way.

Misty scowled and grabbed it again. "Don't do that!" she exclaimed. "You'll break it!"

"Who cares?" Brock grumbled, obviously disgruntled. "It's obviously just a piece of junk that you got from a crazy old man who lives in the woods by himself."

Erika looked puzzled at this description, but Misty plowed on. "Oh, yeah? How is he so crazy? In case you haven't noticed, he ended up being _right_!" And she gestured with a sweeping arm at their surroundings—trapped, under a glass globe, with no idea where they were or how to get back out.

Brock sighed, unable to argue Misty's point, and ran a frustrated hand over his face, looking suddenly weary. "Well, a lot of good it did us that he gave you this _weapon_ but didn't tell you how to use it."

"I don't know…I don't know if _he _knew," Misty admitted uncertainly, and she examined it once more, closely. She ran her fingers over the intricate carvings, squinting to see if the elaborate designs spelled out some sort of symbol or word, but if it did, it was lost on her.

"Give it to Erika," Brock suggested. "Maybe it needs a delicate touch." And there was that moony expression that Misty had noted was missing. It was almost comforting to see Brock fawn over a girl even in this dire situation—somehow it made things seem a little more normal, no matter how eye-roll inducing Brock's slobbering always ended up being.

Misty glared at him. "What, are you saying I don't have a 'delicate touch'?" she snapped, and resisted the urge to crack her knuckles menacingly—that would, she realized, contradict her demand.

"I'm sure," Erika hastily cut in, as though sensing the danger in the air, "that nothing I could do would help." She offered Brock an encouraging and serene smile, trying to restore the peace, and if possible, his eyes grew even more starry at the attention.

"I guess I'll just keep it safe for now," Misty sighed, pocketing it again. Maybe the answer would present itself to her at some point down the road. Maybe Ash—somewhere there, on the outside, hopefully faring better than they were—would have found some sort of answer and would know how to use it when (she refused to let herself think in terms of 'if') she saw him again.

Well, Misty tried to be an optimist, but there was no need to _lie _to herself. More likely Ash would be as clueless as he normally was. And expect her to have all the answers.

She hoped he was safe. She would never admit it to Brock, or her sisters, and didn't even like admitting it to herself, really, but she spent a lot of time worrying about Ash. Because he was just so _stupid_, and so _rash_, and he would blindly rush into a situation with no plan, no idea of what to do, only an idiotic desire to save the world.

Because he was a good person. Because he always wanted to do what was right. No matter what the cost to himself.

And yet through all the screw-ups he had gotten himself—gotten _them_—into throughout the years, she and Brock had always been by his side. And she had always been there to make sure that he came out in one piece, and, well…she just hoped that he was all right, wherever he was.

Alone.

And Ash wasn't used to being alone. It was like he had told her before, long ago when this mess had just been a legend, more like a ghost story told on a stormy night. That as long as the three of them were together, things always seemed to turn out all right. And although that was Ash's ever-optimistic outlook, Misty had to admit to feeling the same. And with Ash gone, there was…a piece missing.

"Misty? Are you all right?" Erika's gentle voice, always so sweetly lilting, interrupted her thoughts, and, startled, Misty looked up.

"Oh, yeah," she said hastily, aware of her face heating up and certain that her cheeks were flushed red. "I'm fine. Just…thinking." She pressed her lips together, embarrassed, though she couldn't pinpoint the exact reason. It wasn't as though Brock or Erika could _know _what she was thinking.

Which was a relief, because if Brock ever knew…

No, Misty kept her feelings to herself, which was for the best, because they confused even her. And besides, Brock, with his repeated rejections from any and every girl within a ten mile radius (which just happened to be every girl he fell in love with and declared the most beautiful, most wonderful girl he had ever encountered), was hardly one to consult on matters of the heart. Misty could just imagine his expression—and his advice—and was certain that she would never live it down.

And her _sisters_…well, confiding in her sisters was _completely _out of the question.

Misty looked up, trying to keep her cool and return her face to its proper shade, and she glanced over at her three sisters, who had moved on to styling each other's hair now that Misty had made a hasty escape. They looked as though they were having a grand time, hardly comprehending the situation that they were in. Or maybe it was just that they didn't have a solution, and therefore weren't bothering to worry about it until one presented itself. That was more of their style—let someone else worry about it. And that 'someone' usually seemed to be her.

Yes, confiding in her sisters was _definitely_ out of the question.

"If you're all done playing beauty school," Koga spoke up, his gaze in the same direction as Misty's, seeing the three sisters at their ease, completely worry-free. His voice always sounded like thunder in the distance, a rumble from within that radiated quiet power. "Perhaps we could return to our attention to the matter at hand." He turned his eyes to Misty, as though he expected her to rein in her sisters and make them behave like proper gym leaders.

As if they had ever been that. If she hadn't battled Ash for the Cascade Badge, her sisters would have let him just flounce away with it without so much as releasing a single Pokemon from a Pokeball.

Misty flushed again, embarrassed, both for her sake and the sake of her sisters. Even before visiting the gyms of these leaders, she had of course known their names, and in many cases, their battle style and special moves. As respect, she never shared these secrets, even with Ash, just as it was assumed that if she _had _secrets, they would remain quiet, a silent pact. However, her training style hadn't developed enough for her to pull out any trademark, special moves, and her sisters didn't care enough to develop them for their own. Sometimes she wondered if the others looked down on the Cerulean Gym because of this. And well, if they didn't before, they probably did now, with her sister resorting to playing with hair rather than formulating a plan of attack.

"I told you what I know," Misty said, her voice unusually quiet but with still a hint of defensiveness in it. She had sat down and retold exactly what Samuel had told her, and they had been much more inclined to believe her than Ash had been to listen. Perhaps the circumstances of the situation explained that—at this point, they were probably willing to believe anything that explained how they had come to be in this strange place.

Koga waved his hand in her direction. "Yes, you told us, but the question remains what we _do _with that information."

"How _can _we do anything?" Brock spoke up, ever the rational one. "We don't know where we are, and we don't know where Lucinda is, and we don't have any of our Pokemon."

"We're trapped," Erika said softly, looking a bit claustrophobic and a lot frightened. "And we can't even defend ourselves."

It was Lt. Surge who gave a growl of frustration at Brock's practical breakdown of their predicament. He slammed one of his huge fists in his hands, his eyes blazing. "I didn't live through war to fall down at the mercy of some…some crazy little _ghost girl_!" he spat. "She's lucky she took our Pokemon while we were out of it—too cowardly to challenge us face-to-face!"

"Cowardly?" a smooth voice interrupted them, and as one, the entire group turned to face the new speaker, who seemed to have appeared unnoticed, stalking them silently and stealthily. "Not quite a fair judgment."

Misty started as she faced the enemy for the first time—the last time she had laid eyes on Lucinda, which couldn't have been that long ago no matter _how _long she had been unconscious, Lucinda had been a small child. Now she was older, her age, and still prettily innocent. Anyone who looked at her wouldn't think her capable of such immense evil, nor such unmatchable power.

Her petite, unassuming and unthreatening posture was probably why Lt. Surge, so much bigger and so much stronger, glanced down at her and gave a loud bark of laughter. "_You_?" he chuckled, crossing his massive arms. "_You're _the one who brought us here? No wonder you knocked us all out!"

"Well, it did make for easier transportation," Lucinda replied smoothly, seemingly not offended in the slightest by Lt. Surge's brushoff. Her calm reply sent chills down Misty's spine, because she knew it wasn't intimidation that caused Lucinda to reply so casually. Instead it was the firmness of her belief that Lt. Surge, like the rest of them, did not matter and did not pose any sort of threat.

"The game's gone on long enough," Lt. Surge growled threateningly. "Return our Pokemon and release us, and I might let you off easy."

Lucinda's lips twitched up in a small, mocking smile. "You'll let me off easy?" she repeated, her voice thick with amusement, and Lt. Surge's face darkened considerably at her laughter. Misty felt herself instinctively shrink back a bit—Lt. Surge was such a _large _person, and he was so _angry_, and he was, after all, a war veteran who seemed to think he was still _in _the war, but Lucinda seemed to not be intimidated in the slightest, even as Lt. Surge curled his massive hands into fists.

"Listen, _little girl_," he growled, his belief that she was, in fact, a young girl seemingly the only thing holding him back from attack. "I don't want to have to hurt you, but if you don't return our Pokemon and let us go, I'll do what I have to do!"

Lucinda's stare was icy. "Are you trying to _threaten _me?" she asked, obviously not taking kindly to his ultimatum.

"If it comes to that," he confirmed, and Lucinda gave him a cold smirk, the corners of her lips curling up with twisted humor.

"Then go ahead," she challenged, still with that odd smile on her face that caused the hairs on the back of Misty's neck to rise. "Teach me a lesson. Do what you have to do."

Lt. Surge looked dumbfounded at this; obviously he had not been expecting for Lucinda to call his bluff. "What?" he asked bewildered, and her smile only grew even larger, her eyes sparkling with some sort of unknown secret.

"Go ahead," she repeated, her voice sweetly innocent. "Give it your best shot."

His face creased as he scowled angrily, and suddenly he was charging towards her, his footsteps heavy and hurried and his head bowed as though he were going to tackle her. Lucinda, for her part, remained perfectly still and perfectly silent, still smiling, seemingly not concerned at all with the huge man hurtling himself in her direction.

"Lt. Surge…be careful!" Misty blurted out, not even completely aware of what she was saying. But Lucinda's off-kilter smile and calm demeanor alarmed her, and despite Surge's stature compared to Lucinda's, Misty couldn't help but feel that he was at a terrible disadvantage, one that he wouldn't be able to overcome.

Lucinda didn't seem worried at all about being hurt, and it caused Misty to realize, beyond any doubt, that she in fact _wouldn't _be hurt, no matter what Lt. Surge did.

And in the split second before he reached her, while his arms started to come forward near his head to grab her and toss her to the ground, in that second Lucinda's hand shot out quick as lightning. Her palm made contact with the crown of Surge's head, a feather light touch with delicate fingers. And instead of her hand being snapped back with the force of Surge's stampeding, it was Lt. Surge who was sent, with an invisible shove that must have contained the strength of fifty men, hurtling across the dome, his feet leaving the ground completely.

Misty's mouth fell open as she watched him fly backwards, a startled and pained yell leaving his lips and filling every corner of the room. She could see the collision against the wall a moment before it happened and she instinctively slammed her eyes shut, not wanting to see it, but she was unable to block out the sickening crunch as his large body crashed against the wall.

Erika let out a shriek of horror, and Lt. Surge emitted a small, tortured groan of pain, and Misty kept her eyes squeezed closed for a long moment, frozen in her spot, and suddenly everything was eerily, disturbingly quiet and she forced herself to look.

Lt. Surge, normally so imposing and strong, was crumpled on the ground across the room, against the glass wall of their dome. The rest of the gym leaders had shrunk back, instinctively, when they had seen what Lucinda had done to Lt. Surge, and Misty realized that she was the only one who hadn't taken a few steps back. Not wanting to call attention to herself, she took a few stumbling steps, nearly tripping over her feet.

Lucinda looked pleased as they moved away from her, giving her plenty of room, separating themselves—the powerful and the helpless. And it did look as though if one of them were to get too close to her, they would be scalded alive, or shrivel up and die, or be sent hurtling across the room like Surge had been. She looked like a person that if you got too close, _something _bad was destined to happen.

When Samuel had first told Misty about Lucinda, a part of her had felt sorry for the little girl who had grown up without a family. Misty knew what it was like to grow up without parents, and at least she had had sisters. And as irritating and infuriating as they were, Misty _did _know that they cared about her, and that she would always have a home at the Cerulean Gym, even after she stormed out and yelled that she wouldn't come back until she was the greatest Water Pokemon trainer in the world.

Yes, Misty knew what it was like to throw yourself into your dream because it felt as though there was nothing and nobody else for you to turn to. That if you achieved greatness, maybe you would fill that emptiness inside that nothing else seemed to fill.

But loneliness didn't justify evil, and Misty had never felt that urge to strike revenge on the entire world. She had wanted friends, and had wanted to belong, and she had found it with Ash, and with Brock. And much like her sisters, Misty knew no matter how many times she and Ash argued and shouted at one another, she would always have a home with him wherever he went.

And despite their run-ins with people like Team Rocket, it was rare to encounter such undiluted _evil_, and Misty's sympathy was quickly ebbing away, especially in the face of her concern for her Pokemon, especially poor Togepi. The world might not have dealt the girl in front of her a fair hand, but to turn around and target them in the name of being a 'master' couldn't be tolerated from anyone, no matter what their situation in life. And Lt. Surge's condition, now sitting up and clutching his stomach and trying to catch his breath, showed that Lucinda was certainly no one to pity, and rather, as Samuel had tried to impress upon her, someone to fear.

A long silence hung in the air, even rapid-fire breathing seemed to have ceased as the gym leaders looked at Lucinda, and she looked back at them, neither group making a move and rather staying frozen in the moment.

And then she smiled and spoke, her voice mild and seeming honestly curious. "So. That was your best shot?"

A long silence held in the air; Lt. Surge was too disorientated to answer, and the others felt that they were in no position to respond and that it would be wiser to keep their distance.

"Give us back our Pokemon!" Misty finally blurted out despite her better judgement—speaking without thinking, she really _was _spending too much time around Ash. But the thought of little Togepi, and Staryu and Goldeen and Psyduck, as annoying as that crazy duck could be, at the mercy of this…_person_…made her want to comb the entire world until she discovered where they were being kept and reclaimed them as her own.

Lucinda waved her hand in Misty's direction. "Don't worry—you're only the beginning. You won't be the only ones to lose your precious Pokemon." A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and her eyes looked dreamy, as though she were far away and imagining. "Soon things will be back to how they should be. So many _fools _on this earth, wandering around with Pokemon and having no idea or respect for the power and potential. They're all worthless. _You're _all worthless."

"And you think that _you _have respect for power?" To Misty's surprise, it was Brock who spoke up now, disgust evident in his voice. It wasn't that Brock wasn't brave, it was simply that he was usually _smarter _in his bravery than Ash or Misty tended to be.

Lucinda raised her perfectly-arched eyebrows. "I know," she replied coolly, "how to _use _power." She smiled as she gazed up to the top of the dome, where a dark night sky stretched above them. "And soon you'll all be well aware of how well-honed my skills are. All these years haven't changed that."

And she turned on her heel, obviously about to leave, although Misty had no idea _how _she planned on leaving. She had slipped among them so silently that she hadn't noticed at all where she had come from. It was clear, however, that taunting them in their captivity had been her sole intent.

"Wait!" Sabrina blurted out suddenly, and Lucinda stopped, turning back calmly, as though she had been expecting the outburst.

The Saffron gym leader had her fists clenched at her side, her eyes flashing with determination. It was a look that Misty hadn't seen from her before—when Ash had gone to face her for the Marsh Badge, she had seen only icy indifference. But now she was fiery, not icy, and certainly anything but indifferent.

"I challenge you to a Pokemon battle!" her voice rang off the walls of the dome, and every other leader in the globe caught their breath. It was true, Misty would admit (though some of the other leaders would probably be far too proud to), that Sabrina was probably the most powerful of them all. It was simply the nature of training psychic Pokemon. However, even her power seemed puny and insignificant when coming against such a force of nature as Lucinda, who had kidnapped them all and left their gyms in rubble.

But maybe…a flicker of hope lit within her. Maybe there was hope. Maybe there was a reason that Lucinda always struck when they were unaware, and maybe when faced on a one-on-one, head-on situation, her weaknesses would show.

If that was the case, however, Lucinda did not look in the slightest bit worried. As was per her usual, she looked only amused, the cat watching the canary flail for escape before ultimately devouring its prey. "So be it," she said smoothly, no surprise in her voice, and Misty wondered, uneasily, if she had known all along that she would be challenged, and if that was why she had come in the first place.

She pointed at Sabrina, and a single Pokeball appeared in her hands. Sabrina clutched it to her, one of her precious Pokemon, and the flicker of hope in Misty's chest grew even further. If they had one Pokemon…maybe they could somehow save themselves.

"A one-on-one battle," Lucinda said smoothly. "But before you challenge me, you should know that my price is high for those who challenge me and then lose."

"I'm willing to accept that," Sabrina said, her voice very stiff, and Misty knew she was fighting back her fear. Because when they were already trapped, already prisoners, what could be worse? What could be this 'high price'? "And if I win?"

Lucinda chuckled, as though Sabrina had told a good joke. "Oh, don't worry about that. You won't." From nowhere, a single Pokeball appeared in her hand to match the one sitting in Sabrina's hand. The others had cleared the way, leaving a large empty space between the two—a mock arena.

Lucinda raised her Pokeball, and gave a chilling smile.

"Let's begin."

* * *

Hope you guys enjoyed Chapter 11!

A few ending notes:

There are dark times/themes in next chapter, so consider this a warning. However, I hope you all stick with me, because there's some good meaty stuff coming up!

Previously I mentioned to some that this fic would probably be around 22 chapters…seeing it come to life and seeing that some things that I thought would take longer really didn't, in reality, this fic will probably be 18-20 chapters.

Next, it's been called to my attention from a LJ community I belong to that some people consider it rude when the author doesn't respond to individual reviews. Call me crazy (and the poster pretty much did), but I figure you guys would rather I, y'know, spend the time writing the next chapter. However, I'd just like to say that I really appreciate all of my reviewers, and getting them is definitely a highlight of my day. So THANK YOU to everyone who's reviewed so far and left such thoughtful and thought-provoking comments. You guys are awesome! And I'm only 13 short of 100—a milestone! And if anyone is really simply dying to get into contact with me, I'm very good at answer PMs.

Also, I'd like to thank everyone who left their sympathies/understanding about the death in my family. Your comments were very much appreciated.

I will be in New York and Florida for 10-11 days in July, so the next chapter may be delayed. Rest assured that I will certainly be working on it!


	12. Chapter 12

Sabrina held the Pokeball cautiously, and she seemed to be holding her breath, as well

A/N: So, I had brought a notebook with me on vacation, planning to write some of this out by hand…and that completely didn't happen. XD However, I did get a good amount done BEFORE I left for vacation, so I hope the wait wasn't too bad! I had a good time, so thanks to everyone who wished me good travels!

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 12**

* * *

Sabrina held the Pokeball cautiously, and she seemed to be holding her breath, as well. Lucinda was waiting, and Sabrina's grip tightened around the familiar Pokeball. She didn't know which Pokemon resided within it, and her psychic ability seemed to only give her the knowledge that it was hers. And even that, perhaps that was only her intuition.

Intuition or not, psychic powers or not, her Pokemon or not, holding a Pokemon in her hands filled her with a flood of relief. It was comforting and reassuring, not being completely at the mercy of a monster, if only for that split second. To have _some _sort of way, however small, and however hopeless, to fight back.

And then she let it go.

"Pokeball, go!"

Her heart leapt as her Kadabra appeared from the Pokeball—she couldn't have planned it better, and she wondered why Lucinda would be so cocky as to let Sabrina have her most powerful Pokemon, as well as the one that she was most closely linked to telepathically. She had expected a far less favorable outcome when she had challenged Lucinda, a challenge that had spilled from her lips seemingly unbidden.

Lucinda raised the Pokeball that had appeared in her own hands, tossing it with one smooth, graceful motion. A Venusaur appeared in a great blast of light, and Sabrina frowned, even more confused than she had been before now that she saw her opponent's choice. They had been obscured in darkness for days on end, by Lucinda's own hand. Why would she then, in turn, choose a grass Pokemon to battle Sabrina with, when that Pokemon's powers would certainly be weakened? And it's most powerful attack, Solarbeam, wasn't even an option…

Was this an attempt at amends, an obvious mark of surrender?

Or was it possible that Lucinda, such a great master so long ago, did not have the advantage of the more recent studies? Was she, to put it simply, too far behind the times to be a threat now?

Somehow, Sabrina didn't think that that answer was the correct one.

However, she could not afford to waste time pondering her opponent's strategy—perhaps _that _had been Lucinda's intention, to send out a disadvantaged Pokemon to confuse and therefore distract Sabrina. And if that was her intention, Sabrina was not about to prove her right.

She took a deep breath. _It's just another battle_, she told herself in response to the fluttering butterflies in her stomach—nerves she had not felt since she was a small girl facing her first trainers, long before she became a gym leader.

"Kadabra, Confusion!" Sabrina cried, taking her advantage to make the first attack. If she could confuse Lucinda's Venasaur, she could reduce the amount of physical damage the rather large Pokemon could do to her own, smaller Pokemon.

Kadabra obeyed, sending waves towards Venasaur that Sabrina knew were powerful enough to bring down the strongest of opponents. However, the grass Pokemon did not even look dazed, and shrugged off the waves as though they were nothing more than a passing wind.

Sabrina bit her lip in order to keep her mouth from falling open in surprise. She was determined to keep her calm, although her confidence at her type advantage in this battle was already significantly falling.

Lucinda's lips, however, had curled up in what she would probably call a smile, but what could only really be described as a sneer. "How impressive," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And they choose you to run a gym?" She laughed, that light, tinkling laugh, as Sabrina noticeably fumed, her hands tightening and her hair floating back as her anger at the snub manifested itself with her psychic ability. This didn't intimidate Lucinda in the slightest, and she tossed her braid of red hair and casually issued her command.

"Venasaur, Vine Whip."

"Kadabra, Reflect!" Sabrina quickly yelled. As she had hoped, Kadabra quickly threw up a shield to defend itself against the Vine Whip, before the whips came close to touching it.

However, much to her surprise, the vines crashed right through the Reflect shield, rendering it useless, and wrapped Kadabra up tight. Venasaur lifted Kadabra high in the air, above Sabrina's head, and she knew she had only a brief moment to act.

"Use Psychic!" she called, hoping to take advantage of the fact that Venasaur was in such close proximity to her Pokemon, and therefore more likely to be affected by an attack. From there, she could control the other Pokemon to slowly lower Kadabra to the ground.

She was partly right—this attack seemed to have some effect; she could see the trembling of muscle beneath Venasaur's hide that accompanied a Pokemon trying to fight off a psychic attack. However, this attack merely seemed to agitate Venasaur further. Eyes flashing, with a mighty roar, it flung Kadabra against the wall of the dome, where its body struck with a loud crack.

Sabrina winced, her psychic connection to her Pokemon giving her a shadow of the pain it was feeling at that moment. "Recover!"

However, Lucinda was right on top of her command, and their voices melded together like some sort of sick symphony as she cried out, "Razor Leaf!"

The leaves flew like knives from Venasaur's back, interrupting Kadabra so that it did not have a proper moment to use Recover. The psychic Pokemon threw up its arms, still clutching the spoons, trying to shield itself as the leaves sliced into it over and over again.

"Now, Venasaur, Vine Whip again!"

"Jump!" Sabrina yelled upon instinct, and Kadabra leapt into the air, trying to clear the vines. It failed, however, and the vines wrapped around Kadabra's ankles and brought it hurtling back to the ground to land hard on its back.

"Now, Venasaur, it's time to finish the job," Lucinda could barely contain her glee at the obvious torment on Sabrina's face. Venasaur started moving in, its heavy footsteps causing small tremors in the ground under their feet. Sabrina knew she had precious few moments to make a move before the battle was all over. Time, like the grains in an hourglass, was quickly slipping away.

"Kadabra, use Psywave!" she yelped, her voice rising on her panic. Recover has always been her trump card. She loved seeing the shock on the other trainer's face when all of their work at wearing down her powerful Pokemon was seemingly erased, and Kadabra was returned to almost perfect condition. However, with Venasaur assailing it over and over again, Kadabra had no chance to replenish itself.

Kadabra weakly tried to fend off the approaching Pokemon with the Psywave that Sabrina had commanded, but it was obvious that the battle and the endless siege from the Razor Leaf was taking its toll. This especially seemed to be true when Venasaur pressed on, undeterred. Its heavy footsteps slowed slightly, as though it were moving through water as the Psywave tried to press it back, but it did not have the desired effect of sending it far enough back that Kadabra would have a chance to recover.

For the first time in her career as a Pokemon trainer, Sabrina was at a loss. She watched with a sinking heart as the Venasaur continued to approach, and Kadabra held up on its Psywave. It wasn't that she had never lost a battle—however, when she _did _lose a battle, it was usually because the other trainer had pulled some surprising move that had led to an unexpected success.

It used to make her angry, but then she learned, as she got older, to appreciate the quick thinking of others.

But in this case…in this case, she was simply outmatched, and it was infuriating. She knew her Pokemon were powerful, and Kadabra was her most powerful, and yet this Venasaur was batting it around as though it were a plaything.

She grit her teeth, her mouth set in a grim line, and she played her last card, hoping for a miracle. "Kadabra, Recover—as quick as you can!"

Lucinda, however, seemed to know that this was coming, and it was with a smug smile that she issued her last command. "Venasaur, Body Slam!"

"NO!" Sabrina yelped as the massive Pokemon hovered over her own, who was in the process of using Recover.

But her cry went unheeded, and Venasaur crashed down on top of Kadabra with a sickening crunch. Sabrina let out a cry, instinctively taking a few steps towards the scene of the battle, her fists curled up in balls at her sides.

Lucinda, for her part, waited patiently, her hands clasped calmly in front of her, as serene as though she were taking a walk in the park rather than engaging in a battle.

After what felt like an eternity, Venasaur finally moved, and Sabrina fell to her knees as she saw her poor fallen Pokemon, its last bit of energy zapped, lying there motionless. Her head and limbs felt heavy as though they were filled with lead, and a dull headache was starting just behind her eyes.

It was, she decided, the feeling of defeat.

And just like that, the battle, and their one great hope of escape, was over. Her Pokemon, beaten by a grass Pokemon, in the dead of night.

"Kadabra…return," she murmured, holding out the Pokeball, and Kadabra disappeared in it. And before she even had a moment to register the end of the battle, her Pokeball had disappeared once more and she was again powerless and defenseless against Lucinda.

Lucinda smirked, and her Venasaur let out a triumphant roar loud enough that Violet, Daisy, and Lily had to clamp their hands over their ears. "And I am the victor. How surprising," she said sweetly, and she held out her own Pokeball, the large grass Pokemon disappearing as though it were completely harmless. "And now…my prize."

Sabrina pressed her lips together tightly, and nodded shortly. She had been expecting this, expecting death, because what else could she had have meant by a 'high price'? Lucinda had already kidnapped them, taken their Pokemon, destroyed their gym, and held them confined. What else could be left? What could be a greater price? At least this way there would be honor in death, that she had died fighting, died trying to find a way out. She had not balked in fear or cowardice, and at the threshold of death she would be as she had been in life, and she would look Lucinda directly in her eyes.

And so she did. "As we agreed," she said quietly, and she prepared for the blow, and Misty turned away and clapped her hands over her face, and Violet choked back a sob, her face marred with wrinkles of worry and distress.

And when the blow did come, it was so quick and dove on deadly wings so swiftly that no one had time to comprehend what had happened, because they were all watching Sabrina. They were all watching Sabrina, and Sabrina was still standing, still alive. They were all watching Sabrina except for Koga, who had collapsed to the ground, clutching his heart, a raw cry of pain escaping his lips, and suddenly, they were all watching Koga, including Sabrina.

Erika reached him first, taking those final strides and falling to her knees next to him and gathing his upper body in her arms like a mother. His face had turned chalky white, and he gnashed his teeth and clutched at his chest, at his arms, at Erika, and it seemed as though he couldn't even cry out anymore. And Erika could offer no words of understanding, because the strike had come out so unexpectedly, so randomly, and so painfully.

And then they were all rushing to him, with the exception of Lucinda who watched them with a satisfied expression on her face, carelessly rolling her Pokeball between her hands, hardly interested in the scene unfolding before her.

"Koga…" Sabrina was the one to speak, falling on the other side of him and grasping his hand. His face was taut with pain, and his hand was clammy and cold in her own, and desperately she rubbed her hands over it, trying to draw back some warmth. "What's happening? What's wrong?"

But Koga couldn't find the words to answer her, and the rest of the leaders fell to their knees around him like a protective cocoon, and it was only Misty who thought to look up at Lucinda, the only one who might have the answer, and this seemed to prompt her to speak.

"Poison," she said softly. "The hallmark of the Fuschia Gym. Quite a painful hallmark, it seems." And she smiled as though she had just made a good joke.

Sabrina's head snapped up so quickly at this that Blaine, who was the next closest to her, fell onto his back from his kneeling position in surprise. The question, _what's going on_, had been so smugly answered, and yet she could not bear to accept the response. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded angrily of Lucinda, her voice tortured. "_I _challenged you! _I _accepted the consequences! Leave him alone!"

Erika still held Koga cradled in her arms, and she mopped his forehead, slick with sweat, with the arm of her shirt. He groaned, seemingly uncomforted by the gesture, and each breath seemed to bring him even more agony than the one before it. "Please…" Erika murmured, her voice soft. "Hang in there." She tore her eyes away from Koga for a moment to glance at those gathered around her. "I wish we could help him," and her voice caught on the word 'help'.

Lucinda, obviously unmoved by Erika's distress, sneered. "Bleeding heart."

As Lucinda spoke, Sabrina shot back up to her feet, the fire that had been extinguished by the end of their battle freshly ignited. "Stop it!" she howled at Lucinda. "_I'm _the one who deserves this! Stop it!"

Lucinda shook her head, Sabrina's pleas not moving her in the slightest but rather seeming to stir something akin to disgust within her. "You're all so predictable," she fairly spat. "The good always are. They'd take the bullet themselves because they'd rather be the martyr than be responsible for someone else's demise." And now she gave Sabrina a twisted smile. "In some ways, I admire your courage for challenging me, even if it's foolish courage. But now you must accept the price."

"_I _must accept the price!" Sabrina hollered, her voice starting to go hoarse from her yelling. "_I _must, not him! Leave him alone!"

Lucinda raised an eyebrow. "When," she questioned sweetly, "did I say that _your _life was the price? I think living with his death on your conscience will be a much more fitting punishment."

"No!" Sabrina shrieked, horrified at her terrible mistake, and she was streaking across the dome towards Lucinda faster than Brock or Blaine or anyone else could stop her, faster than Misty could even climb to her feet to try and restrain the psychic trainer.

"Sabrina, wait!" Misty blurted out, unwilling to see _two _die in front of her, and she stood up, but she was too late. Sabrina had launched herself at Lucinda, her feet leaving the ground, prepared to tackle her as though her physical encounter could stop the progression of the poison that was working its way through his system and killing Koga.

But before Sabrina could make contact, Lucinda had disappeared, without so much as a wisp of smoke or a pop of sound to suggest that she had ever been there at all. As though she had been an illusion or a ghost, she was simply gone. And so Sabrina fell through the empty air and hit the ground, hard, her chin bopping against the solid floor so that her teeth clacked together, her arms skidding rather nastily and coming to rest sprawled in front of her.

Silence fell like a blanket over the dome for a long moment, including, terribly, silence from Koga.

And then Sabrina started to cry.

Slowly, as though in a daze, the others started to come back to life, and Brock and Blaine went over to Sabrina and both helped her gently to her feet. Misty, for her part, directed her gaze back to Koga, who was lying silently in Erika's arms. It was painful to look at them, as painful as it was to watch Sabrina, the cool and polished psychic master, break down and weep.

"Is he…" Misty started fearfully, her gaze on Koga's slack face and lack of movement. His eyes, open still, seemed to stare into something that none of them could see, that none of them could ever see.

"I…" Erika's voice cracked, and Sabrina's tears seemed to trail off into stunned silence. "He's…"

But she couldn't bring herself to say anything more, and instead she gently laid him back on the ground, and with tender fingers that would make any Nurse Joy proud, Erika reached out and silently closed Koga's eyes for the final time.

Silence. It seemed appropriate, for their fallen comrade, for one of their fellow gym leaders, one of the most respected and most powerful among them. There were no words that any of them could say, even the more eloquent amongst them, that could describe the injustice that had just taken place.

And if he could be so easily felled, how could any of them be safe? The future that stretched in front of them seemed darker, even more dangerous than it had before. Only moments before, they had thought that they might never see their Pokemon again. And now, they perhaps thought that they wouldn't see _anyone _again, that they would be picked off one by one in the same manner that Koga had been—in a way that left them completely powerless, completely at the mercy of this creature with powers beyond anything they could have ever imagined.

Sabrina squeezed her eyes shut, her temple twitching and her hands clenched in trembling fists. It looked as though she had something large and uncontrollable within her, so much anger and anguish that one person would not be able to contain it all. And she was the one to break the silence. "It's my fault…" she rasped, the tremors moving to her entire person, spreading from her fingers to her fists and arms, down her torso and her legs. She looked as though she would collapse at any moment, and Brock took an instinctive step towards her, as though to catch her if she should faint. "It's _my fault…_"

"No," Misty was the first one to find her voice, despite the fact that it was trembling and tear-filled, and that she didn't feel completely steady on her feet herself. "It's _not _your fault."

"I challenged her," Sabrina whispered, squeezing her eyes tighter still. Her voice was quiet, nearly inaudible, and yet seemed to ring throughout the entire dome, as though she were speaking to all of them telepathically. Her hair swayed slightly in a breeze that none of them could see nor feel, but seemed to come from Sabrina herself.

"You didn't know that _this _would happen," Brock said passionately, and Misty was grateful for his input. "These things…it's…it was a _Pokemon _battle. This wasn't supposed to happen."

Sabrina winced as though she had a headache, and her hair now seemed to float effortlessly around her, and Misty took an instinctive step backwards. "I killed him."

"No!" Misty and Brock both blurt out at the same time, desperately trying to convince Sabrina of the truth. And while they tried to reach her with their words, they were afraid to actually reach out and touch her physically—there seemed to be something building within her, rage and anguish and passion and power, and they were afraid that if they came too close, they would be scalded when she bubbled over. They had never been witness to Sabrina losing control; her displays of her psychic ability in the past had always been deliberate, calculated and controlled.

The tremors that rocketed through Sabrina's body spread to the ground around them, and Misty and Brock each took a stumbling step backwards as the floor beneath them shook as terribly as though they were caught in the middle of an earthquake. And in the middle, the eye of the storm, was the psychic trainer.

"Sabrina!" Misty called, raising her voice as the wind whipped around them, a contained storm within their little isolated dome, a storm borne of Sabrina's turbulant emotions. "Sabrina! This isn't your fault! You have to stop!" She raised her arm to shield her face against the cutting wind—she half-expected it to start raining any moment. Fighting against the wind that pushed her back, she took a step towards her fellow gym leader. "Sabrina!" she called again, trying to sound forceful and commanding, but it seemed that Sabrina was too caught up in the violent power that her anger and pain was whipping up, and couldn't hear Misty at all.

"Misty, be careful!" she heard Brock call to her, but she ignored him and took yet another step towards Sabrina. With every step, the wind pushed her stronger, as though hands were forcing her backwards and away. With every step, she felt as though she were stepping closer to danger, and yet she was afraid to let Sabrina be—the last thing she wanted was for Sabrina to take this on her conscience and cause herself some sort of harm with this psychic overload.

"Sabrina," Misty tried again, her voice attempting at soothing now, despite the fact that she was still rocking from the blow that they had been dealt. "There was nothing that you could have done. You just tried to save us all. This isn't your fault."

And her hands reached out to touch Sabrina's arm, to try and calm and placate her, and when Misty's fingers brushed against Sabrina's skin, Sabrina let out an anguished screech, almost inhumane, that seemed to fill the entire room and beyond, echoing and spreading, and it was accompanied by a powerful psychic blast that sent Misty flying backwards, not with the same force that had sent Lt. Surge across the room, but enough that she fell backwards and skidded a few feet. Behind her, Brock grabbed her upper arms so that she didn't fall backwards and hit her head against the hard ground.

The blast vibrated off the walls and suddenly, unexpectedly, the force caused the glass of the dome to crack and shatter, falling to the ground as though in reaction to Sabrina's shriek. And now that that blast was out of her, Sabrina relaxed a bit, her eyes fluttering open slightly as she fell to her knees, her face relaxing a bit from its tense, screwed-up expression. For a moment she looked almost serene, as though she had expelled something unpleasant from herself, and then she simply looked confused. She put a hand to her head, amazed that she had lost control like that, and looked at the damage done to the dome by her psychic blast.

And then the water gushed in.

"Oh my God!" Lily wailed; despite being a water Pokemon trainer, she was horrified by the water that was steadily pouring into the dome and was now pooling around their legs. She enjoyed the water, but when she _expected _there to be water.

Misty, still on the ground, the water coming in around her knees and elbows, sat up as Brock released his grip on her arms. The shifting landscape suddenly made sense to her, and it had been, as she had expected, part of Lucinda's trick. "We've been underwater," she blurted out in shock. "We're…we're _underwater_!"

"Underwater?" Sabrina asked, still dazed and still clutching her head. She looked up at the damage she had caused, her eyes widening in surprise, and almost immediately she lowered her head, ashamed that she had let herself lose control in such a fashion.

"Underwater? We're, like, going to die!" Violet shrieked. The water was now lapping at the bottom of her dress.

"Oh, we're not going to die," Misty snapped, climbing to her feet, frustrated with her sister. "Get a hold of yourself. Freaking out won't help anything." She said it not only for the benefit of her sisters, but for her own benefit, as well as hoping to cut off any residual guilt Sabrina might have for causing this situation.

But that left the question of what _would _help their situation. They were without Pokemon, without anything that could act as a floatation device, and without an idea of exactly where they were. 'Underwater' wasn't a very good explanation, especially considering they had no idea how _far _underwater they were.

"I think…" Misty began uncertainly, almost afraid to voice her thoughts, "I think we're going to have to make a swim for it."

"Swim?? Swim, like, _where_??" Lily demanded, staring at Misty as though she had lost her last grip on reality.

But as she watched the water pour in the great gaping hole left by Sabrina, the more and more certain Misty became that she was right. "Well," she pointed out, her voice completely calm—not at all like how she usually addressed her sisters. "We can either swim and hope that we're not too far from the surface, or we can stay here. And drown." She did not add this last bit sarcastically, but seriously and solemnly, and it hung in the air like a heavy weight.

It was Erika, the 'bleeding heart', Lucinda had called her, who looked down at Koga first. "And do we just…" her voice cracked a bit, and her eyes misted over. She cleared her throat, as though realizing that this was not the time to let emotion get the best of her, and she tried to keep her voice steady as she spoke again. "Do we just…leave him here?"

The idea sounded horrifying as soon as it left her mouth, but there seemed to be precious few alternatives, and Misty _hated _having to be the one to point that out. But 'swimming' was her idea, and therefore all the leaders looked at her for her decision. She, the youngest, had somehow been dubbed the voice of reason in this situation.

"We can't!" Sabrina seemed to know what Misty was going to say, and the desperation in her voice gave away the fact that she still felt, to some degree, that what had happened to Koga was her own fault.

"I…don't know what else we can do," Misty said softly and regretfully. She squeezed her eyes tight for a moment against the hot prickle of tears. She had barely known Koga, but that didn't mean that she couldn't mourn his completely unjust passing, and the loss of such a talented trainer. But she had to use her head, not her heart, in this situation. "He's already gone," she said reluctantly, painfully. "There's nothing we can do for him. But there's something we can do for ourselves. We don't have to wait here like sitting ducks for her to get the best of us." There was no need to clarify what 'her' Misty was referring to.

"She's right," Lt. Surge declared boldly, smacking one fist into his palm, his eyes ablaze with renewed determination. While he may spend his time training Pokemon now, he was at his core a soldier, and therefore not one to turn away from a challenge. "We've gotta fight to the very end."

_The very end…_Misty shivered instinctively. Although she knew that she was right in saying that they couldn't stay where they were, she still didn't want to think that she was leading them to their deaths. And the truth of the matter was, she had no idea how far underwater they were. They could, for all she knew, be at the very bottom of the deepest ocean, miles and miles below the surface.

She looked around at her companions. _These might be the last faces I see_, she realized with a heart sinking like a rock. And although she would be with Brock and her sisters, at the very least, she wished that she had the chance to see her Pokemon, especially her little Togepi, once more if this was really the end.

She wished she had a chance to see Ash again, too.

The water had reached her waist now, and it was so cold that her legs were going numb and trembling beneath her. "We have to wait until the water raises us up to the roof," she said, pointing up to the part of the dome that was still intact.

"And by the time it gets that high, the pressure should break away the rest of the glass," Brock theorized.

Erika knelt down next to Koga's prone form once more. His body, not even cold in the hands of death yet, was barely submerged as he half-float, half-sunk. His hair drifted around his face beneath the water's surface in an eerie sort of weightlessness.

Misty looked down at his prone form with a gnawing feeling of guilt clawing at her stomach. It didn't seem right, to leave him behind as though his death, as though _he, _had meant nothing at all. It wasn't fair that Koga wouldn't be coming with them, that they had no choice but to leave him behind and his family wouldn't even have the consolation of a proper burial, because his body would be left far behind under the waves.

_If we don't do this_, she reminded herself sternly, _then we'll all be getting buried. _Survival at all costs, Lt. Surge had preached. It seemed such a cold way to live, and yet at that moment it might be their only way to live.

Despite his hard philosophy, it was Lt. Surge who reached out and gently pressed on Koga's shoulders, so that he sunk beneath the water that was now lapping at Misty's elbows. "A burial at sea," he said, and he clasped his hands together for a moment, his head bowed in respect.

One by one, the other gym leaders followed suit—Pewter, Cerulean, Vermillion, Celadon, Saffron, and Cinnabar, all saluting their fallen comrade. None of them spoke, although they all, for their own reasons, wanted to apologize. Apologize for what had happened, for what _had _to happen, for the fact that through no fault of his own, Koga would have to be left behind.

Misty felt her feet leave the ground as the water level rose. Instinctively, she started to tread water. She was the smallest, and therefore the first to have to swim, but luckily she knew that she was one of the strongest swimmers, if not _the _strongest.

She looked at Brock, who was preparing for that moment where he rose above the ground, too, with a look of trepidation on his face. "Are you all right?" she asked quietly, knowing that her friend was not the best of swimmers.

Brock, however, was never one to show his fear in times of hardship. He nodded firmly. "I'll be fine." He turned to Erika, his expression softening in an odd sort of way that Misty both recognized and didn't. It wasn't the normal expression he had when he saw a pretty girl—gooney mooning—but rather, more like the look he got when he was grooming his Pokemon. Thoughtful. Caring. Considerate.

"Are _you _going to be all right?" he asked, and even his voice sounded different—absent from all flowery speech or bold declarations.

Erika kept a stiff upper lip, proving that perhaps she wasn't the weak soul that Lucinda had pegged her for at all. "I'll be as fine as the rest of us. I swam a lot when I was younger."

Brock hesitated. "I mean…with…" he trailed off, he didn't need to say Koga's name.

Erika hesitated. "No," she admitted. "But will any of us ever be?" Her eyes wandered instinctively to Sabrina as she wondered this out loud.

Sabrina returned her gaze; she had never really spoken to Erika of the Celadon Gym prior to this, at least, not more than was necessary at conferences that brought all the gym leaders together. And yet she found the other woman's care a comfort, and found that she wasn't ashamed under her gaze, so unaccusing and so understanding without being condescending.

She shook her head grimly. "No," she confirmed, although Erika's question hadn't necessarily needed an answer. "It will never be okay."

The distance between their heads and the top of the glass dome was quickly shrinking, and Misty forced herself to take deep, calming breaths as her fear rose as the air disappeared. _However far away we are, I can't change it now_, she told herself practically. _Trying to swim for it is better than sitting here and dying_.

"Right," she said out loud, and her sisters looked at her curiously. Misty addressed the entire group again. "When we get to the top, swim out of the hole," she instructed. "Swim straight up. Don't stop for anyone. Don't help anyone. Just swim."

_Just swim_.

The water pressure pressing into the hole diminished as the dome filled completely, and Misty, after taking a deep breath that could, she realized, very well be her last, was the first one to slip out. Despite her warning to the others, she couldn't help but glance back to make sure that the others were following her out. But once she saw Violet, the next one, propel herself out of the globe and the top of Daisy's head as she began to follow suit, Misty turned her attention to the surface.

It seemed to glimmer not that far away, but telling distance underwater was always a tricky business. _Don't look up_, Misty scolded herself. _Just swim_.

_Just swim_.

And so she pumped her legs and arms viciously, moving powerfully and easily through the water as though she had been doing it her entire life—which she had been. And even when her muscles began to ache with lack of oxygen, and her lungs screamed for air, and she worried about how the others must be holding up if she was this tired, she continued to press on. She was almost afraid to look up, afraid that she would see that the surface hadn't come any closer at all, afraid that it was another one of Lucinda's illusions, and so she kept her eyes closed and just pumped her limbs so that she traveled straight up.

_It can't be that much further_," she thought desperately, exhaling her air despite herself. Her chest throbbed, and she knew that it wouldn't be long before she inhaled the salty water as her body demanded oxygen.

Please…please don't be that much further…

_I'm not ready to die_.

She wasn't ready to die.

Her legs shook with the effort of pushing her through the water. She felt something brush her ankle, and she wondered if it was one of her companions, or something that lurked beneath the water.

She wasn't ready to die. She was still young, she still wanted to be a Water Pokemon master, she still wanted to have the white wedding, the family she hadn't had growing up. She still wanted to learn how to surf, to sing in front of thousands of adoring fans, to have the respect of the rest of the gym leaders, of her sisters, instead of being considered the skinny little runt of the bunch.

Her fingers clawed at the water as though it were material that she could part, and her heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she could hear it ringing in her ears.

She wasn't ready to die, not here, not now, not like this, not because of _her_, and…

Ash…

God, she wasn't ready to die.

And suddenly, suddenly her head burst through the surface and her mouth inhaled sweet oxygen and it was like being born all over again, and her drive flooded back into her like a fire that spread through her whole body.

She wasn't ready to die, and she wasn't _going _to die.

Next to her, Brock and Erika surfaced first; behind her, her sisters popped to the surface. Blaine, then Sabrina. For a long moment, none of them spoke, simply enjoying the beautiful sensation of _breathing_, and then Misty realized what was missing.

"Wait…" she said, spinning in a bit of a circle just to make sure that she hadn't missed him. "Wait, where's Lt. Surge?" She directed her gaze back to the water, but it was murky and difficult to see even her feet, much less an approaching form. "Did he…is he…"

The relief at having made it started to fade away at the horror that they may had lost another, and Misty was sure that her expression matched those of the ones around her.

But before any of them could express their sorrow, Lt. Surge flailed to the surface, gasping violently for air, and Misty felt her heart slow back to a more normal pace, and she breathed a great sigh of relief.

"You're all right!" Brock exclaimed, speaking for them all.

"Yeah," the hulking trainer wheezed. "But do I ever hate the water."

Misty laughed; she couldn't help it. Everything they had seen today weighed heavily on the conscious, but at that moment, she couldn't help but laugh that they were here, and they were alive, and her plan had _worked_, and it was so _beautiful_ to be alive, because Misty, Misty wasn't ready to die.

"Yeah, yeah, funny," Lt. Surge grumbled, but even his grumbling seemed to be good-natured; it was hard to be in a bad mood when they had just overcome terrible odds.

But the good cheer was short-lived, and it was Violet who noticed first. "Um, guys?" she started hesitantly. "I think we're like, in trouble here."

And she pointed to where a bolt of lightning crashed into the sea a mere few feet away from them, and the clouds that had materialized out of nowhere.

The sea started churning around them, and Misty was able to grab a gulp of air before a nasty wave lolled over her head. Determined to not be pulled under again, she pushed back above the water, stealing another breath.

"What's happening?" Sabrina demanded, her voice angry, and Misty knew that this time the psychic trainer was not the cause of the elemental turmoil.

And she knew who _was _the cause.

"It's her!" she burst out before another wave crashed over her head. Above her, the lightning flashed like a warning light, and Misty pushed herself above the water with a fury that she did not even know she possessed. "It's _her_!" she repeated angrily.

She thrashed through the water as it tried to drag her under like greedy hands. She was aware of the group around her still, close enough that she could hear them splashing, but the salt water stung her eyes so that she could not see them. Instead she had to trust that they were fighting as hard as she was fighting.

And she was fighting hard, because Misty was not ready to die, and Misty was not going to let her win.

* * *

Above him, the thunder growled like a hungry beast searching for prey, and Ash opened his eyes again.

For a brief moment, the dark sky was illuminated with lightning, and it was almost like it was day again, _almost _as though everything was normal again, _almost _like an ordinary day, before the flash passed and the world was plunged back into blackness, and the thunder sounded again, closer than ever.

He sat up.

And it was a good thing he did, too, because the moment he sat up, a lightning bolt crashed down right where his head had been.

"Jeez!" he yelped, hopping up to his feet, thoroughly shaken. He glanced up at the sky, almost accusingly, as though it had betrayed him. The storm had materialized from seemingly nowhere, but then again, when in the last few days had anything approached with any sort of warning? His entire existence had come down to surprises like this one.

The lightning didn't seem to be targeting him in particular, in that one bolt he had gotten unlucky. However, it was unmistakable that the storm was _directly _above them, and he warily watched the sky for the next bolt that might come their way. Pikachu, too, had jumped to alert, his tail perked up and ready to act as a lightning rod to catch any other bolts that might come their way. Electric Pokemon were handy that way.

Ash got back down on his hands and knees, crawling cautiously near the edge of the cliff and peering over. Far below him, the ocean tumbled and churned violently, spurned on by the storm that had appeared from nowhere. He gulped instinctively—extreme weather was not a situation he wanted to deal with at this moment, high up in the sky with nowhere to take cover.

A bolt of lightning flashed, allowing enough light for that brief moment so that Ash's eyes widened in shock—there were _people _in the water, bobbing along like little buoys, desperately treading against an angry ocean. The light passed, and Ash was left to wonder, briefly, if he had imagined them there—there had been no one on the island with him, and Seafoam was usually deserted and was still quite a bit of distance away, and therefore how could there be people in the water? Where could they have come from?

But when the lightning flashed again, his eyes locked on red hair and blue-green eyes, bobbing like the rest to keep her head above water, but _alive _and _moving _and _real_. And maybe she saw him, and maybe she didn't, and he was fairly certain that he yelled out her name but was almost as certain that his cry was carried away by the wind before it landed on her ears, and he wondered if she, too, was calling out to him and he just couldn't hear it, couldn't hear _her. _

But he could see her.

And he reached for Charizard's Pokeball, the storm melting from a huge obstacle to simple background noise, its importance diminished. The importance of _everything_ was diminished in that moment, where he noticed them, noticed _her_, and he knew he had to get to them, had to get to Misty, to Misty and Brock, where they were floating in the ocean far below him.

* * *

Well, I told you guys it was going to get darker! Lucinda isn't one to mess around, and she isn't the type to broadcast her plans to the world, which was Sabrina's downfall in challenging her—assuming that 'the price' would be Sabrina's life, and not the life of another. But Lucinda is quite a bit crueler than that.

I'd again like to thank everyone who has taken the time to review my fic, especially those (you know who you are) who come back chapter after chapter and leave such thoughtful reviews. Every review counts and is important and a pleasure to receive, but I get especially giddy when it's obvious that people have put time and consideration in their review. It truly is the highlight of my day. I hope you'll continue to leave your thoughts, because they are truly valued.

I hope that this fic is living up to your expectations, and I hope that this chapter was no exception. It was rather hard to write, because there's so much action and a lot of heavy things to deal with, so I hope that no one was disappointed. I'm really psyched about what's to come, and hope that you'll all stick with me!

Until next chapter!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Hello all! It's been less than a month since my last update, which means I don't feel the need to apologize for the delay. ;-) As you all know by now, anything less than a month is speedy on my part!

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter—it was a fun one to write, for reasons that will become clear!

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 13**

The sea had come to life, and it seemed determined to drag Misty down through its depths. As relentlessly as Lucinda's siege in the Pokemon battle had been, so was the siege of the storm. Wave after wave lolled over Misty's head, and she was barely able to catch a gasp of breath before she was pulled under again, leaving her to kick furiously to the surface once more.

_Land. We need to find land_.

She tried to blink the salt from her eyes, resisting the urge to use her hands to wipe her face, and through blurred vision tried to see if they were near any sort of solid ground. Strands of hair that had fallen from the braid that Lily had fashioned stuck to her face, helping the water's campaign to obscure her vision, and all she could see was ocean.

"Brock?" she called wildly, paddling in a dizzy circle. "Lily? Violet? Daisy? Sabrina?" She could make out figures, dark silhouettes that she could not identify, thrashing as violently as she was in a sort of obscene dance with the water. The waves lolled up between them like newly formed walls, separating them from one another.

She had formed a plan to get them to the surface, but she had not thought of what would come next. And more than ever, Misty was not ready to die. The success in escaping the underwater dome and making it to fresh air once more had only served to renew her determination to make it out alive, and she struggled to hold onto that determination.

But she was so _tired_, her limbs heavy and sodden with salt water, and despite being a strong swimmer, she couldn't keep up her frantic treading, and she had to admit that the urge to let herself sink below the waves, to just give up to the grappling fingers of the tide…that urge was as strong as the storm itself.

It was only that voice, that rumbled down in her heart and through her stomach, that voice that called her name and told her not to give up and not to give in, that Lucinda didn't get to win this way, that she had to keep fighting until the very last and that she had to hold on, just a little bit longer.

That voice that sounded suspiciously like Ash.

…God, she never thought she'd see the day when _Ash Ketchum_ became her voice of reason.

Just a little bit longer, Misty…

She was so tired.

_Misty_…

Maybe if she just stopped for a moment…she'd be able to find her way to the surface again…

"Misty!"

And suddenly it wasn't the voice within her, it was outside and calling her, and Misty titled her head back against the pressing wave, and there, _there_ he was, flying in like the fabled knight in shining armor, except he was hardly a knight and he was wearing torn jeans and a ratty old Pokemon cap.

But he was here, and that was all that mattered in the end.

"Ash!" she sputtered, shocked and overjoyed to see that somehow, he had come through this scrape so far without anyone by his side, and somehow, he had found them. His Charizard glided over the edge of the water, swerving to avoid the swells that rose to greet them, and soon he had come in close to her, leaning down over Pikachu who clung to the large Pokemon's back, and he was reaching down, fingers splayed wide, and it was like reaching for salvation.

In the years since she had joined Ash on his Pokemon journey, that dumb kid with the penchant for getting into trouble and somehow wriggling his way back out despite impossible odds, they had rarely been parted for more than a night. Misty had neither clock nor sun to judge time by, but she would venture to guess that this was the longest they had been apart, and under the most unpleasant of circumstances.

And she hadn't liked it.

Ash drove her crazy, of course, but she found that when he hadn't been around, in these last few days, she had spent all her time hoping that he was all right and wishing that he was with them (although she would really rather they all be somewhere else entirely). And now that he was so close, it took all her self-control to not fling herself onto Charizard's leg or grab Ash's entire arm in her sheer _relief _at seeing him again. But she knew both those actions would only cause more harm than good, and so instead she had to wait for him to reach for her.

Her fingertips brushed his ever so slightly before a wave rolled over her head and she was forced underwater again, water rushing into her mouth and nose; she coughed and sputtered. Dimly, as though it were coming from far away, she heard Ash curse and she saw the shadow made on the surface above her by Charizard's body moving away as the Pokemon dodged the crashing wave.

Misty's head hadn't even broken back through the surface when she felt a vice-grip clamp around her wrist, and suddenly she was being hoisted roughly out of the water. Her feet scrambled for purchase along Charizard's back as Ash dragged her up, his face twisted with effort as he held tightly to his Pokemon with one arm and used the other to pull her up behind him.

"Hold on!" he called over the rushing of the wind that whipped their flushed faces, and she barely had time to obey his command and grasp her arms instinctively around his waist before Charizard was taking off once more, barely bypassing another one of the waves that seemed to rise higher and higher with each pass, tossing the leaders around as though they were nothing more than rag dolls.

She clutched tightly to Ash as they rose above the water, and he scanned the ocean below. "We'll have to go in trips," he called over his shoulder. "We'll get Brock and then I'll come back for some of the others!"

"We can't just leave them here in the meanwhile!" she bellowed over the crash of the thunder.

"I don't know what else to do!" he yelled back, and there was something terribly chilling in Ash, cocky Ash with his false bravado, admitting that he didn't know what to do.

And then suddenly Charizard was letting out a mighty roar and Misty was forced to tighten her grip around Ash's waist as the skies finally opened up above them and rain pelted their faces and the fire Pokemon, fearful of his one great weakness, tore away from the water's edge.

"Wait! Brock!" Ash yelped, and then Misty was practically holding him onto Charizard as he leaned sharply over the side and tried to reach for their friend still in the throes of the storm-tossed water, the final member to make their trio complete.

"Ash, don't!" she shrieked, trying to hold him in place with all her strength.

"Pika!" Pikachu echoed as he jumped behind Misty and gripped the back of her shirt, trying to add his small strength to the attempt to keep Ash on Charizard while Ash continued to lean forward, reaching out for Brock who was reaching back despite the fact that, much as it had with Misty, the water seemed determined to pull him far away.

His fingers missed Brock's by a foot, at least, and Misty clung to Ash desperately to try and keep him from leaning over even further. She hated that they were leaving Brock and her _sisters _and the others behind, and yet she was unwilling to let Ash fling himself off of Charizard's back to try and reach them, and it seemed as though that would be what it took in order to get to Brock as Charizard rose higher and higher into the sky, trying to break through the grey ceiling above them to try and avoid the rain, and he raced forwards, dodging the droplets with the grace and skill required of one trying to protect their own life.

"We'll come back!" Ash yelled to them, and she knew it was more for his own benefit than the benefit of the trainers in the waves below them, who likely could not hear them anyway. "We'll be right back!"

"Where are we going?" Misty's voice came out in a bit of a whimper, and her question was lost in the sound of the steady and rapid beating of Charizard's wings, the sound of the crashing waves and rain splashing onto the surface of the ocean.

Instinctively she tightened her grip around Ash's waist, feeling him warm and solid underneath her hands. She had to resist the urge to press herself against his back, to feel him so alive and so _here_ and real. Ash, indestructible Ash, who had come back for them—of _course _he had come back from them—and had somehow beaten the odds that should have led to his destruction long ago. Ash, her…her best friend, her…

Just…_hers_.

"Head back towards the island!" Ash yelled to Charizard, and, rain whipping in her face, Misty lifted her head briefly to see the fire Pokemon heading towards a tall, narrow island that rose into the sky like an accusing finger. "We can stay inside until the rain slows down!"

"Where did that come from?" Misty called over the rush of the wind lashing at their faces, sliced by Charizard's wings. She squinted in the stinging rain as a flash of lightning illuminated the small white island, one that she had never seen nor heard of before.

"Lucinda!" he called back, and it was all the answer that Misty needed, and she wondered why she hadn't made that assumption on her own. Wasn't everything that they were suffering, all the oddities they had encountered, all tied back to that mysterious being bent on havoc?

As they approached the island, Misty could dimly make out a cut in the tower of…was it ice?…that rose out from the ground, creating something resembling a doorway. Where such a doorway would lead, she didn't know—all she knew was that Charizard, and therefore she and Ash, were heading straight for it.

"Duck!" Ash yelped at the last moment as they realized that Charizard would be barely clearing the top of the doorway. She obeyed, pressing herself against Ash's back as he threw himself forward, and she could still feel the chill that radiated from the top of the doorway, confirming her suspicions that it was created from ice while simultaneously frightening her with how close they were to crashing into it.

Charizard tried to come to a stop before crashing against a wall, and the force of the motion sent Ash, Misty, and Pikachu flying forwards, tumbling off the Pokemon's back and falling rather unceremoniously to the ground with a soft thud. The impact knocked the wind out of Misty, and all she could do was lie there for a long moment, trying to catch her breath and rejoicing in the feel of the solid, icy ground that stretched beneath her.

She could hear Ash gasping next to her, and Pikachu let out soft 'chu' sounds as he rolled over onto his stomach, still a bit stunned from impact with the ground.

"You all right?" Ash asked after a moment of quiet, wincing as he sat back up and put a hand against his stomach. "Pikachu? Misty?"

"Cha…" Pikachu shook his body as though trying to rid it from surprise, and climbed a bit unsteadily to his feet. It was unsurprising that the Pokemon, used to the trials of battle, was a bit more relisant than his human friends.

"I'm all right," Misty replied quietly, and the words were so wonderful to say that she had to repeat them again. "I'm all right."

Pressing her hands against the solid ground for resistance, she sat up as well, keeping her hands against the ice just to remind herself that she was no longer being tossed amongst the waves. "Yeah…" she said, dazed, one last time. "We're all right."

She wiped a few ice shavings off of the backs of her arms, which were by now raising with goosebumps. As her heart rate slowed back down and she was able to regain control over her breathing, she was able to realize fully that she was sopping wet and sitting in a tower made of ice, on the frozen ground.

"Where…" she let out a shiver, her body starting to tremble from the cold. "Where are we?"

"This is the island that Samuel told us about," Ash said softly, standing up and looking around. "This is where I…well. Never mind."

"What?" Misty asked, as always unwilling to let it go when someone knew something she didn't.

"This is where she first brought you," Ash explained, reluctantly, something almost sounding like…shame…licking at the edge of his tone. "This is where I first found you. But I couldn't help you. And she moved you, and I didn't know how I was going to find you again." And now that shame was sounding a lot more like self-loathing.

"Oh…" she trailed off, unsure how to react to this unusual tone to his voice. Ash was rarely ashamed because well, he rarely did things that he would have to be ashamed of. Embarrassed, disappointed, sure, but shame? Shame was something different. "Oh, Ash, it's all right."

His gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping under the weight of guilt, and he seemed not comforted by her assurances.

"You came back," Misty pointed out.

"Yeah…" Ash said, and he raised his head again, looking out the doorway where the rain was still steadily falling. "But Brock and the others are still out there, and we can't get to them on Charizard while it's raining. And the waves are too rough for Lapras to navigate."

"And I don't have any of my Pokemon…" Misty told him mournfully, still rubbing her arms with her chilled hands, hoping to draw some warmth back into her body. She wished she didn't insist on wearing shorts and a tank, or, rather, she wished that Lucinda didn't have such an affinity for the cold. "She took them all. Even Togepi," and the last sentence was spoken with the heaviness of a sorrowful mother.

"She doesn't have mine yet," he said, and he sounded a bit proud of this, and Misty rolled her eyes despite being secretly glad at hearing a tone other than a worried or upset one from Ash.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out," she said, gesturing to Charizard and Pikachu.

"Oh," he replied, looking a bit embarrassed. "Right." He held out his Pokeball. "Charizard, return."

"How did you find us?" Misty asked. "How did you _get _here?"

"I went back to Samuel after you guys disappeared," he told her. "I didn't know what to do. And he told me everything."

"You mean everything you _didn't _want to hear from _me_," she said, a trifle smug, and he sighed, pulling the brim of his hat down lower so that more of his dark hair poked out the back.

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"So then what?" Misty asked.

"Then I…kind of stole a boat…"

"You _what_?" she fairly shrieked, and Ash, for his part, at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

"I didn't know what else to do, okay?" He held his hands up defensively. "And it was really Gary's idea!"

"Gary?" She looked around, as though expecting him to pop out of nowhere. "Is Gary here?"

She almost regretted asking, because Ash's expression drooped further. "No," he murmured. "I don't know where Gary is. The boat was blown to bits—by Lucinda I'm guessing—and he was…lost. I just hope he made it. He has Blastoise at least."

"I'm sure he's fine," Misty said delicately. She was really sure of nothing of the sort, but she knew that at that moment, it was what Ash needed to hear.

"Yeah," Ash said, looking comforted. "Yeah, he has to be. Anyway, then Lapras brought me here…and you guys were frozen behind this…wall of ice that I just couldn't break…and then suddenly you were gone. And then…you were there again. In the ocean. I thought I'd never see you again, and you were right there."

"We were under the water," Misty explained. "In this…dome. Made of glass. And Sabrina broke it with a psychic blast."

Ash looked impressed. "Wow. She can do that on command?"

"Well…" She bit her lip and looked down. "She was…upset." Now she looked up again, looking at him. "Lucinda killed Koga, Ash."

He went pale. "Killed?" he croaked, looking stunned at the notion.

She nodded. "Poison," she said softly. "Like his gym. She loves irony, I guess." Misty turned her eyes to the doorway, out the door, to the turbulent waters. "My sisters are out there. In the water. You know," she gave him a shaky smile, "the Cerulean trademark."

Misty hated being afraid of the water.

Aggravated, Ash reached his gloved hands into his unruly black hair, gripping tightly as though he could pull an idea from his head that way. "I don't know what to do. Who knows when it'll stop raining? There has to be some other way…" He tugged roughly, and then glanced over at her, shivering and soaked on the ice floor, and grimaced again. "I'm sorry I don't have anything to start a fire with," he said softly, glancing around as though he expected firewood to appear out of nowhere, or something else suitable for Charizard to light with his Flamethrower. But all that surrounded them was the frozen, glass-like surface that coated the entire island.

"Here." And suddenly he was kneeling next to her and pulling off his jacket, that old, worn jacket that he had worn faithfully since she had met him years ago, and he draped it around her shoulders. "You're soaking wet."

The jacket was slightly damp from the rain, but it was still warm from his body and it smelled like him, and his hands were familiar when they brushed her shoulders lightly as he fixed it around her.

"Thanks," Misty said, and she _did _feel warmer…warm enough that she could feel her cheeks start to flush when she looked back at him, close enough that she could make out the swirls of color in his eyes, closer than he usually was, perhaps closer than what could be simply dismissed as 'friendly'…

No, he was just trying to help her. Because that was the kind of person Ash Ketchum was, and sure, she was one of his best friends, but if it had been a freezing stranger, he would have offered his jacket with the same care and selflessness, the same measure of tenderness.

At least, she was pretty sure he would.

His eyes, though so close, didn't hold any answers to her confusion, because he had focused on something new. Her hair, and there was almost an expression of disgust on his face as he regarded it. "What did you do to your _hair_?" he asked, horrified, and Misty instinctively scowled, the blush on her face fading away.

"_What?_" she asked, and she instinctively reached up to touch it, and…oh, she had almost forgotten that Lily had insisted on plaiting it for her. Her sister had done a good job, and although several strands had fallen free, the intent of the style was still obvious. And suddenly she was embarrassed and offended at the same time, because Ash rarely saw her looking…girl-like, and yet why was it so _shocking _when she cleaned up a bit? Was she so much one of the _boys _that he looked at her with horror when she did her hair differently, as though it were _Brock _who had started wearing a plait in his hair?

But her offense faded away as he reached out and tugged out the plait, combing his fingers through her hair so that the twists fell away, and she just _knew _that her face had to be rose-red at this point because he was _running his fingers through her hair _and it was _Ash_.

"What are you…" she started tentatively, and he gave her a half-smile, looking more weary than anything else.

"It made you look like her," he said as way of explanation, and Misty's eyes widened in surprise.

Ash pulled away his hands and she missed the feeling of them, such an intimate touch in such a dire situation.

It was the thing that romance novels were made of, but Misty's life was hardly a romance novel, and Ash was hardly a suitable hero for any fantasy. But, to be fair, Misty was hardly the fabled princess, the damsel in distress that a suitable hero would rescue and whisk away in the end.

Misty's life wasn't a romance novel so maybe she shouldn't think so much into the feeling of Ash's fingers in her hair.

Especially since romance novels were never her thing—she always left that to her sisters.

"Oh…" she said, a bit thrown still from his touch and uncertain as to how to respond. "Well, then…thanks."

"You guys…really look alike," Ash said a bit ruefully, looking relieved that Misty's hair was no longer in the same style that Lucinda had carefully crafted hers.

"We do?" Misty asked, because she hadn't really noticed. Then again, she had been a bit distracted and Lucinda's looks hadn't been on the forefront of her mind.

"Yeah," Ash said matter-of-factly. "Except…" he hesitated, as though unsure if he wanted to complete his thought, and then he went ahead anyway, still in the same tone that betrayed nothing of what he was thinking, "except for your eyes."

Misty gave a small little ghost of a smile—of course, it was the one feature that she couldn't currently check for herself, and it was one that she was surprised Ash would notice. "Our eyes?"

Ash nodded. "Hers are gray, and yours are blue. And hers…are cold." And Misty bit her lip and had to look down, warmed at the insinuation that despite the times Ash had called her mean, a bully, loud-mouth, and all the other names in the book (and, granted, she had returned with quite a few choice words of her own), he didn't regard her as cold. That she, Misty, had warm eyes.

"I'm…I think…"Ash stumbled over his words, so unlike him, and, in the spirit of being unlike themselves, Misty didn't press him but let him finish on his own. "I'm really glad you're okay," he finished a bit lamely, and Misty had a nagging feeling that whatever Ash had been about to say, that hadn't been it.

But again she didn't press him, mostly because although she was sure that that wasn't what Ash had meant to say, she was equally sure that Ash himself was unsure as to what he meant to say, and so she let things stand.

"I'm okay," she said softly. "But how are we going to help the others?"

Ash fell back onto his heels, looking frustrated. No matter how many times they arrived at the same question, they never arrived at a suitable answer. "Maybe if we…"

Misty never got to hear what Ash's 'maybe' idea was, because at that moment a familiar voice sounded from the doorway, just a few feet away from them, and another voice joined in, and they were voices that Ash and Misty had no interest in hearing at the moment—or, really, ever.

"Prepare for trouble!"

"And make it double!"

Ash leapt to his feet so quickly that Pikachu jumped backwards in shock. "Are you _kidding me_?" he bellowed, tossing his head back as he yelled, and Team Rocket, striking their pose in the doorway of the ice tower, looked taken aback.

"You know, I'm getting very tired of your interrupting us," Jessie snipped, her hands moving from their folded position to rest on her hips, and she stuck her chin forward resolutely. "It's very rude!"

"Well, we're tired of your bad timing!" Misty snapped back, similarly jumping to her feet, Ash's jacket still snug around her.

"Bad timing?" Meowth chuckled. "Are you kidding? Only two twerps to deal with, instead of three! Looks like good timing to me—good timing for _us!_"

"Speaking of which, where is the third twerp?" James asked, sidetracked as usual. Confused, he glanced around for Brock.

Jessie gasped, and stars practically appeared in her eyes. "You've finally done it, haven't you? You've run away together! Oh, how _disgustingly _adorable!"

Misty felt her face blaze. "Of course we haven't!" she exclaimed, humiliated, and she could practically feel the embarrassment radiating from Ash next to her.

Team Rocket blissfully ignored her, and James examined the ice tower that surrounded them. "But what a _terrible _place to run away to," he tsked. "Who _was _your decorator?"

"Listen, you idiots!" Misty roared, and _this _seemed to get their attention, and at once they looked very put-out.

"Well, there's no need to shout, little missy," Jessie snipped, turning her nose up snootily at the younger girl. "But if you don't want to exchange the polite formalities, we'll get right to the point—hand over that Pikachu!"

"We have bigger problems on our hands!" Ash exclaimed, but just in case, he moved protectively in front of the small electric Pokemon. "Haven't you guys noticed, oh, I don't know, that _the sun hasn't come out for days_?"

The statement seemed to catch them off guard, and in unison they peered out the doorway as though they realized for the first time that the world had been plunged into darkness. "Hmm, it _was _looking a bit gloomy," James mused.

"And if we don't stop the person who made it happen, it'll stay that way forever!" Ash exclaimed.

Team Rocket didn't seem particularly bothered by this. "Well, the darkness _would _make it easier to sneak up on people while we were stealing their Pokemon," Jessie pondered. "Plus, it makes us look more forboding and mysterious!"

"Yeah, and the darkness'll hide those bags under your eyes!" Meowth pointed out helpfully, and soon found himself with a face full of Jessie's heeled boot.

"If we don't stop her, there won't _be _any Pokemon to steal!" Misty said desperately, and this seemed to catch their attention, even Jessie who was still trying to repay Meowth for his unwanted comment.

"What? No more Pokemon?" James asked, looking horrified at the very notion.

"Not from trainers," Ash jumped in, seeing where Misty was going. "This person—Lucinda—she wants to take everyone's Pokemon and stop training all together! If we don't stop her, everyone will lose their Pokemon—_including _you!"

Jessie and James looked offended at this. "I'd like to see her _try _to take my Pokemon!" Jessie huffed.

"Believe me, she wouldn't need to _try_," Ash replied darkly. "You don't know how powerful she is."

"We're powerful!" James insisted with an absurd pout, and Misty had to keep herself from laughing, both at his expression and at his statement.

Ash gave her a sidelong glance and a bit of a half-smile, his thoughts obviously mirroring hers. But he decided to play along and not crush their belief and self-esteem. "But Lucinda, she's more powerful than…well, than pretty much anyone. Even you guys," he said, and he had to obviously hold back a snicker at this.

Jessie looked positively livid. "Who does she think she is? Stealing _all_ the Pokemon? Why, even we don't try to steal _all _the Pokemon—we leave some to other hard-working thieves such as ourselves!"

"How generous of you," Misty replied dryly.

"So we really don't have time to battle you guys right now," Ash said, jumping on his chance since Team Rocket seemed to have some grasp of the situation, however twisted their view may be. "We need to stop this girl. You know. For all the hard-working thieves of the world."

Pikachu rolled his eyes.

Jessie and James exchanged a doubtful look, and then Jessie, always the leader, whisked James and Meowth away from the two teenagers. "Team conference," she snapped in their general direction, and the three huddled in a tight circle, every so often casting a suspicious look at Ash and Misty, as though they suspected that the two would be eavesdropping.

Ash and Misty, for their part, exchanged bewildered looks.

Finally, Team Rocket broke apart and came closer, standing in a line as though forming a blockade, their arms folded almost sullenly. "Well, we've worked together before," Jessie said, a bit sourly. "I suppose one more time, if it means that we get to keep our Pokemon, and others get to keep their Pokemon so that we can steal them, can't hurt." The tone in her voice, however, suggested that it would hurt her very much, and Ash and Misty weren't even sure that Team Rocket's help was what they wanted or needed—rather, they just wanted to be left alone and not have to worry about the team trying to snatch Pikachu.

Until Misty remembered their preferred mode of transport, and her eyes lit up. "That's it!"

"Yes, yes, I know, you can thank us later. Or we'll just make you extra sorry later to make up for it," Jessie waved a hand dismissively at Misty.

"No, no," Misty replied impatiently. "Ash, the submarine!"

Ash, of course, looked just as confused as Team Rocket, and Misty groaned inwardly. Of course—she could always count on Ash to display bravery and loyalty, but intelligence was hardly his strong point. It was a good thing that survival thus far had been based on luck. God help them all if Lucinda had made him solve crossword puzzles.

"Team Rocket's submarine?" Misty prompted. "The Magikarp? _People in the water_?"

"What about our submarine?" Jessie interrupted, looking suspicious now that she was being included in whatever Misty was plotting.

"Our friends are caught out in the water! And if we can use the submarine, we can come from below and avoid the storm!" Misty exclaimed.

Jessie looked about ready to protest, but she seemed to remember their newly made promise to join forces with their usual rivals, and so she only pressed her mouth in a grim line. "Well. If you _must _use it. But I'm coming! You'll just crash it, or something!" She stuck her nose up haughtily.

"Right, because all that 'blasting off' that you guys do hasn't caused any damage," Ash muttered, rolling his eyes. And then he turned to Misty, his expression growing grim once more. "But what about Lucinda? She'll create some other obstacle for us."

Misty wrinkled her brow, thinking. "We'll have to create some sort of diversion…something to distract her."

"Yeah, like what?" Ash grumbled. "Messing with us is becoming her favorite game."

Misty had known the answer before Ash had even asked the question, and even he had unknowingly offered the solution. She wasn't crazy about it, but all she had to think of was how Ash had come all this way, to this island, and then braved the storm to try and rescue them, and she knew it was her turn for sacrifice.

"Like me," she replied simply, and all the eyes in the room shot to her in shock. Jessie, James, and Meowth looked confused, and Ash, he was starting to look angry.

"What do you mean, _you_?" he asked, and there was an edge to his voice.

Misty shrugged, trying to make it seem as though what she was suggesting wasn't extremely dangerous. "She wants all the gym leaders, so that training in Kanto grinds to a halt? Well, now she's missing one, isn't she?"

Ash scowled darkly. "So what, you want to act as _bait_?"

She met his eye challengingly, as though daring him to come up with a better solution. "It'll work. If she thinks I'm a threat to her plan. Plus, she's cocky. She left us alone in this underwater dome, trusting that even if we did get out, we'd never make it to the surface. With her storm and no Pokemon, she'll assume that the others have no chance."

"No way!" Ash spat violently. "You're crazy! She'll get tired of playing around with you and will just get rid of you! Just like Koga!"

She set her jaw in order to keep the quiver of fear out of her voice. "If it means everyone else will be safe, then it's worth it."

"No, it's not!" he exploded, practically yelling in her face. "There has to be another way!"

"Then what other way, Ash?" she yelled back, propping her hands on her hips, her fear fueling her anger much as she knew his fear was fueling his. "I'm sure _you've _come up with some kind of brilliant idea!"

He was silent for a moment, glaring at her. "I'll stay! You go with them!"

"She doesn't _want _you, Ash!" she shouted. "She doesn't _care _about you! _I'm _a gym leader—you're just some stupid trainer like a million of others! You're nothing special and she wouldn't go _anywhere _to get to _just you_!"

"You're such a jerk!" Ash yelled, inches away, fists clenched.

"And you're just a pathetic loser of a trainer!"

Eyes blazing, he opened his mouth, and then shut it again. And suddenly, his expression softened, though he still looked angry. "You're just saying that so that I get so mad, I storm out and let you have your way, aren't you?"

Misty felt her shoulders relax as the fight left her. "Yeah," she admitted, her voice suddenly soft. "I am."

"It almost worked," he admitted. "Almost."

"Almost?" Misty echoed, and suddenly she was taken aback when Ash seized her hand with his own, gripping it firmly, and the anger had vanished and he only looked pleading.

"Please, Misty," he said, his voice quiet. "Don't do this. You're going to get hurt." And there was such a rare tone to his voice that all she wanted to do was give in, and really, it wasn't as though she _wanted _to be the one to lure Lucinda, such a dangerous creature, back to this island.

But she knew it was what had to be done, and that Ash would do it in a heartbeat if she hadn't been right in saying that Lucinda had no interest in him. So she squeezed his hand back, and then she let go.

"I have to," she offered a small, apologetic smile, and Ash's shoulders sagged sadly at the realization that he would be unable to change her mind.

"Pika, pikachu!" Even Pikachu was joining in the dissent, tugging on Misty's arm, that was now lying limply by her side, and frowning mightily.

"But how are you going to get her here? You're still only one person, and there are a lot out in the water," Ash pointed out, almost sounding hopeful at the thought that he had figured out a snag in her plan.

She bit her lip, fingering the open edges of Ash's jacket, which had, despite its slightly damp state, helped greatly with the chill. That silly jacket, that held so many memories and had been with Ash through his entire journey…

"That's it," she mumbled, and she almost wished she hadn't found the perfect solution.

"What's it?" Ash asked nervously.

She didn't answer with words, and instead reached inside Ash's jacket, to where his Kanto gym badges, all eight, were proudly displayed. She pulled off the Cascade badge. Her badge.

"Hey, that's mine!" he exclaimed, sounding confused and mildly annoyed.

"Don't worry, I'll give you another one when I get my backpack back," Misty assured him, rolling her eyes slightly. Those badges that meant so much to him… "Now, you, Jessie, Pikachu, and Meowth go in the submarine and rescue the others. But leave Squirtle with me."

"Squirtle? Why do you need Squirtle?" Ash asked, baffled.

"And why aren't _I _allowed to go?" James whined. "I'm never allowed to do anything that people might actually _thank _me for! I miss all the fun!"

"You can't go because you have a more important job," Misty told him, feeling as though she was comforting a small child. "And that's why I need Squirtle. We're going to have a battle, and I need a Pokemon."

Hesitantly, Ash reached for the Pokeball, but he had to question before handing it over. "A Pokemon battle?"

"Right," Misty confirmed, and she took the Pokeball in her hands before holding her chin up high. "Lucinda wants to close all the gyms? Fine. Then she's going to have to come here. You," she pointed to James, "are going to battle me for my Cascade badge."

"You mean _my _Cascade badge," Ash muttered, but he looked more curious than anything else.

"Why would I want a _gym badge_?" James asked, looking horrified at the notion.

"Um, because it might save the world?" Misty snapped, and James stuck out his tongue at her in a childish manner, unhappy with the tone. Misty ignored his sulking.

"The Cerulean Gym is back open. Right here. And Lucinda will have to make a personal visit to stop me."

* * *

So now you see why I enjoyed writing this chapter—Ash and Misty actually got to interact!

As always, I'd like to thank all the fabulous people who have reviewed, encourage those who haven't reviewed to review now, and beg patience for the next chapter since my classes start on Tuesday. I hope you all enjoyed this installment!

PS: For some reason, this site keeps sticking the first line of my fic at the very top of the document whenever I upload. Sometimes (like now) I catch it, sometimes I don't. It's the site's fault, not mine. Just so you all don't think I'm crazy. XD


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Next chapter! Woohoo! (I'll leave the rest of the notes for the bottom.)

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 14**

"Battling for an official Pokemon League badge," James lamented after Misty's declaration. "It's all so…legal. And boring. Legally boring. Or would you say boringly legal?"

"You would say 'shut up, you're doing it anyway,'" Misty snipped with a roll of her eyes. She clutched the Pokeball tightly in her palm, and for once, holding a Pokemon in her hands felt like an enormous weight on her shoulders. She wondered if Sabrina had felt the same way before facing Lucinda, or if the feeling of dread only plagued Misty. After all, Sabrina had gone into the battle not knowing what power she was facing, nor the price she would have to pay for defeat. Misty, unfortunately, was all too aware of the fact that she was taking her life, as well as the lives of those around her, into play.

"I hate to interrupt your whining fest—actually, I enjoy it—but if there are people in the water I suggest we get a move on?" Meowth cut in, gesturing to the ocean that spread wide before them.

"Right," Ash squared his shoulders. He pulled his hat down further onto his head, but he didn't come over to reclaim his jacket from Misty. "Let's go, Pikachu."

The electric Pokemon looked reluctant to head anywhere with Team Rocket, much less into their dingy submarine back into the thrash of the storm, but his sense of duty to friends had always matched that of his trainer, and so he, much like Ash, visibly steeled himself and nodded. "Pika."

"Wait, Ash!" Misty exclaimed suddenly, and she hurried over to him, her hand plunging into her pocket. She pulled out the small golden cylinder that Samuel had placed into her protection, and, palm flat, she offered it out to her companion. "Here."

He recognized it—it looked just like the souvenir one that Samuel had given him. Only this one, he knew, was real. "That's the weapon?"

She looked mildly surprised. "Samuel told you about it?"

Ash sighed, somewhat frustrated. "Well, he told me that there _was _one. And that you had it. And hey, that he had some cheap souvenir ones that he could give me!" He sighed, staring forlornly at the small tube in Misty's hands. "I'd hoped that the real one was a little more impressive-looking, if you know what I mean."

Crestfallen, her shoulders slumped slightly. "So, you don't know how to use it?"

"No. Don't you?"

"No," she admitted somewhat reluctantly, and then she pressed it into his palm. "While you're out there in the submarine, try to figure it out. We're going to need this."

Their palms remained pressed together for a long moment, a clutch over the small tube that was somehow supposed to save them all. "We're…we're actually going to have to kill somebody, aren't we?" Ash asked tentatively.

"I prefer to not think of her as a person," she replied carefully. "After all, she's already…dead, right? She's some sort of evil spirit. So we can't really…kill her."

He swallowed noticeably. "Right," he said, but he seemed to have gone a few shades whiter than normal. "I just…you know. Hope spirits don't bleed."

Misty offered him a shaky smile. "Me too," she confided, and she glanced down at their hands, still linked.

"So I'll…uh…see you when I get back. When _we _get back. All of us." And there was a hint of pleading in this voice, as though he were begging her to make it through the other side, to beat the odds and hold out against Lucinda's fury and be there when he returned with the rest of the gym leaders.

"Right," Misty said, trying to sound brave and not worried at all. Not at all as though she thought that maybe, this might be the last time she saw Ash, so soon after finding him again, and she might never seen her sisters or Brock again, and she, Brock, and Ash, their trio, might never be whole again.

She wanted to warn him to be careful, but it seemed silly when she didn't even know which of the two of them really needed to be careful. Which of them was putting themselves in greater danger?

Ash snatched his hand back with Samuel's weapon so quickly it was as though Misty's palm had burned him, and when she saw the pained look in his eyes she wondered if it wasn't so. "Come on, Pikachu," he said quietly, almost avoiding Misty's eye.

"Well, _both _of you can follow us," Jessie huffed. "_We're _driving. Heaven only knows what would happen if _you _were left to steer the submarine." Dripping with self-importance, she breezed past them, Meowth following in her wake and attempting to mimick her higher-than-thou attitude.

"Hey, if _you_ guys can do it, it can't be _that _hard," he shot back, and while their argument might be petty, Misty was simply relieved to see Ash asking more like his usual self, and less gloomy.

He hesitated in the doorway, Pikachu by his side, and Misty couldn't make out his expression in the darkness. His body seemed to be on point, tense and ready for battle, but whether he was ready to run and join Jessie and Meowth or run back to Misty was uncertain.

"Go," she said quietly. "And you'd better figure out that weapon, Mr. Pokemon Master!" She tried vainly to sound as bossy and demanding as she usually did, which normally came so easily to her, but when she thought that this might be the last time she saw Ash…well, it was a little harder than normal to scold him. But she knew that while most times her orders would annoy him, today they would be comforting.

Ash, however, did not seem very comforted. He gave her a ghost of a smile for her effort, and then, as though acting before he could change his mind, he tore off towards the submarine, leaving Pikachu to scamper after him in his wake.

And Misty, for her part, had to will herself to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground and not take after him in a run. She wished that the sun would come out for just a moment, because if this was the last time she would ever see Ash, she wished that she could actually see him go, rather than just hear the retreat of his footsteps.

With a deep breath, she tucked the Cascade badge, James's promised prize that he couldn't care less for, into the pocket of Ash's jacket. She turned to face her opponent, unable to keep a small, ironic smile off her face. She was no stranger at battling either member of Team Rocket, and yet this battle was the most important one of all—and it was one where they were battling for the same thing.

"Ready?" she asked, and James nodded. Even he seemed to have finally grasped the seriousness of the situation, perhaps due to the fact that he and Misty were the only two left in the tower, and he had no one to distract him from the truth.

He nodded, and withdrew a Pokeball from his belt, as Misty had seen him do so many times before. "Ready," he confirmed.

Misty enlarged Squirtle's Pokeball. "Then let's go."

* * *

"You guys do this _everywhere_?" Ash panted as he pumped his legs viciously in the Magikarp submarine. "I figured you had a _motor _or something."

"Do you have any idea what a motor would cost?" Jessie responded testily, looking much less tired than Ash did, having had many excursions in the submarine under her belt by this point. "Do you think we're rolling in cash?"

"Maybe if you spent some of your time actually _working _instead of trying…" Ash paused to catch his breath, moving his hands from the handle bars to his thighs to try and give them extra support, "…trying to steal Pikachu all the time, maybe you'd be able to afford a motor!"

"But this allows me to stay in excellent shape," Jessie primped, and Ash was glad that he was seated behind her and therefore could easily roll his eyes without being seen.

He could feel the gold cylinder that Misty had placed into his hand pressing against his palm from his pocket, and he remembered her command that he figure out how to work it. Why she had entrusted _him_ with this, well, that escaped him. He suspected it was because she hadn't been able figure it out for herself and needed someone else to try in order to confirm that it wasn't really the weapon that Samuel had promised would save them all, but rather a worthless piece of junk.

Making sure to keep pedaling, as to be sure to not earn Jessie's wrath, Ash pulled it out and turned it over a few times, carefully examining it for some sort of button or lever among the symbols and inscriptions that he did not understand. He held it up, trying to peer through it like a telescope, but there was no visible opening.

"What do you think?" he asked Pikachu. "What, am I supposed to just conk Lucinda over the head with this?"

"Pikapi," and though Ash sometimes had trouble deciphering exact meaning from his Pokemon, it was obvious from his tone that Pikachu doubted this idea.

"Yeah, I didn't think so, either," he sighed. He smacked it roughly against one of his gloved hands. "Well, I hope it isn't some sort of an explosive," he pondered out loud as he continued to smack it against his palm, hoping to set off a spring of some sort.

Jessie's ears perked up at this. "What? Explosive?" she shrieked, trying to crane her neck back while still pedaling in order to see what mischief Ash was creating in _her _submarine. "You'd better not have any such thing in here, twerp! You'll be sorry if you do!"

Still holding the cylinder, he held up his hands defensively. "I don't, okay?" He sighed, and pocketed the weapon again, not looking forward to having to tell Misty that his attempts to figure out how to work it were as futile as hers had been. "Just a worthless piece of junk."

"There!" Meowth exclaimed from his position at the periscope. "We're right near them, head for the surface!"

"Oh, great, uphill," Ash muttered, and now it was Pikachu's turn to make an exasperated face.

"We'll surface and open the top hatch," Jessie explained, taking charge as was her nature. "And you can go up and save all your little friends."

He glanced around the small submarine. "This is going to be cramped," he sighed, but he found it easier to obey, and so he reached for the wheel of the hatch once Meowth had given him the sign that the top of their vehicle was above water. And he only gave himself a moment to think that the gym leaders thrashing in the waves around them must think that their luck had gotten even worse and that they were about to be attacked by a giant Magikarp, but he gave himself that moment, however brief, to think it.

He pulled hard, throwing his entire body weight behind spinning the wheel, and then he climbed the small ladder and pushed open the top, blinking as his face was suddenly pelted by the still falling rain.

"Brock?" he formed his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, peering into the vast, dark waters. "Hey, Brock!"

He thought he heard a voice call his name in return, but he couldn't be sure until a flash of lightning lit up the surrounding area. But when the flash came, he was able to see several figures treading water, not as viciously as Misty had been when he had plucked her from the water, but enough to keep their heads bobbing just above the surface, the tread of the very tired.

"Brock!" he yelped, unable to distinguish which one was his friend, but it didn't really matter as long as _one _of them was Brock. "Hey, everyone! Over here!"

Ash swung his legs over the edge of the Magikarp submarine, balancing precariously on the side, feeling his sneakers skid slightly along the slick surface. In the darkness, he couldn't tell if anyone was swimming towards him or not, if they knew that he was the one who was calling to them, or if they had even heard him at all.

Tensing his muscles in order to keep his balance, he cautiously waved his hands in the air and waved them frantically, hoping that they would at least be able to see his outline. "Guys, over here!" Briefly he thought that waving his arms in this manner was practically making himself a target mark for Lucinda, and he hoped feverantly that Misty's plan to distract her with a gym battle worked.

With the next lightning flash, it seemed that some of the figures had moved closer, and Ash leaned back so that he could call back into the open top of the submarine. "Move forward! We need to meet them halfway!"

"When did you become captain?" Jessie grumbled, but she listened. Ash wobbled violently on the side of the sub when it began to slowly move forward, and he leaned back to grasp onto the lip of the opening he had come out from and brace himself against the side of the submarine.

Suddenly, something reached out and snatched at the end of Ash's jeans, making him yelp in surprise. His thoughts immediately leapt to Lucinda, and whatever new creature she had brought to destroy them. He instinctively started shaking his leg, trying to free it from whatever had it in such a grip, until a voice interrupted him.

"Geez, Ash, if you're going to help us, _help_!"

A smile broke across his face. "Brock!" Relieved to hear his friend, even if he could not yet see him, Ash reached down, grasping onto Brock's arms to help him climb up the edge of the submarine. Rather than head down to the inside chamber where Jessie, Meowth, and Pikachu waited, Brock braced himself much in the manner that Ash was, getting ready to help the rest of the gym leaders climb in.

"You okay?" Ash called over the lapping waves.

"Been better." But Brock couldn't conceal his grin, self-satisfied at his survival, and he clapped Ash on the back familiarly. "Good to see you in one piece, Ash."

"Yeah, well, almost didn't happen!" Ash admitted, and then he reached down when he heard the light smack of hands against the submarine, grasping through the dim night as his hand clamped around a wrist. Brock assumed a similar position on his other side, and together the two hoisted Blaine up the side of the submarine.

He grinned at them, his teeth flashing white against a darkened face. "Nothing like crawling out of the freezing water and into a huge fish!" And his tone was completely serious, and Ash had to chalk it up to yet another one of Blaine's nonsensical sayings.

"You all right?" he asked as Blaine swung his legs over the edge of the opening, getting ready to lower himself into the submarine.

"Water isn't really my thing," he admitted, "so really I wish you had brought a plane instead of a submarine."

"Well, I'm just happy to see anything at _all_," a new voice grumbled, and Ash and Brock leaned over to help Sabrina up. Seeing that he would have to move on, Blaine disappeared down into the huge Magikarp as Sabrina gracefully scaled the rest of the submarine.

She waited before descending, however. "We're one short," and though her voice was quiet, it was serious enough that they could hear her over the rain, wind, and waves. "Koga. He…"

"I know," Ash interrupted, wanting to spare her from having to retell the story. "Misty told me."

"Misty?" Brock craned his neck, trying to remain balanced on the side while peering down into the submarine. "Is she already here?"

"She's at the island," he replied, and he gestured towards the land that rose so high that it was visible even in the dark night. "I was able to get to her before the rain."

"What's she doing there?" Brock asked, a bit bewildered that she hadn't accompanied Ash in the submarine to pull out the rest of the gym leaders.

"Oh, probably getting herself killed," he replied darkly as the two trainers reached down and pulled up one of the Cerulean sisters other than the one they were currently talking about. "Getting in over her head. You know how good she is at stuff like that. Nothing new."

"Wait, what?" Daisy interrupted, shaking her foot free from Lily's grip both so that she could move into the submarine and so that Ash and Brock could pull her sister up the side. "What's Misty doing?"

Immediately Ash felt guilty for letting it slip that Misty was doing something dangerous. He couldn't help but be angry about her decision—he didn't care that she was right, and that it was their best chance and probably their only hope. It didn't matter that he would probably do the same thing if he had been put into her situation. He hated the situation, and he hated the choice she had made, and God, Misty just made him so _angry _sometimes.

Because he hadn't been lying when he had said to Brock that she always got in over her head. That loud mouth of hers had gotten her into trouble more than once—had gotten them _all _into trouble a couple of times.

…then again, so had his.

Which was probably the reason that despite how much they fought, they remained best friends. Misty made him so angry because he _understood _why she did the stupid, infuriating things she did, and he couldn't just be blindly furious at her and then brush it off as 'just Misty'. He always had to be angry while _understanding_, and that, in turn, just made him even more angry.

"It's nothing," he said guiltily, trying to offer both Daisy and Lily a reassuring smile. "You know how Misty is. Nothing could ever get the best of her."

"God, she has to like, stop getting herself into trouble," Lily grumbled, and Ash couldn't help but silently agree. Their lives would be a lot simpler if Misty could stop getting into trouble…and yet, if that happened, she wouldn't be Misty.

Maybe trouble wasn't that bad.

And besides, if Misty _were _here, she would certainly be quick to point out that she was far from the only one to find herself in troubling situations. And she had a good 'legend' to point to from their last encounter with a different maniac on a mission.

Erika was the last that they pulled into the submarine, and next to him, Ash could almost feel Brock visibly relax as their hands gripped tight and they pulled the slight girl up out of the icy ocean and onto their vessel. As soon as his hand was free from the grass trainer's grip, Ash, too, slumped exhausted against the side of the Magikarp, his arms aching from the effort of pulling body after body up from the waters.

Now free from the most pressing matter of helping those still caught in the waves, Brock raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Team Rocket, Ash?"

He shrugged. "Well, when you're desperate. Plus, they have a submarine."

Now Brock grinned, relief at having been saved causing him to be in good humor. "One that's probably packed as tightly as a sardine can by now."

Ash laughed, pulling his legs up from the water where the waves, now subdued, lapped at his ankles. He wanted to laugh at Lucinda, laugh right at her, ,that they had beaten her at her own game. That she may be powerful, but she couldn't bring down the whole of the Pokemon league in one swoop, not when they were fighting for a cause so dear to them. For the first time since the sun had slipped behind the moon, Ash felt as though they might have a chance, and as the waves ebbed away from the submarine, so did his despair. It was as if he had scooped up hope when he had scooped up his friends, and he clung to it.

He grinned back at Brock, broadly, freely, as he swung his legs back over the open top of the Magikarp. "Wouldn't have it any other way, right?"

Brock shook his head as he braced himself up on his knees, preparing to follow Ash. "Not a chance."

The inside was, as Brock had predicted, incredibly cramped. Everywhere people struggled to find sitting room, leaving them practically on top of one another (though, Ash noticed, they had so very thoughtfully left his spot on the bench empty so that he could ferry them back to shore.) Jessie, in her seat, looked annoyed at the invasion of her personal space as well as, surprisingly, vaguely worried as her eyes took in the crowded sub.

"Hurry up and sit down," she snipped at Ash. "This submarine isn't designed to hold so many people. Time to get a move on."

Brock pressed against the wall so that Ash could slip by and take a seat, his legs already throbbing in protest of the workout ahead of them.

"The storm's calming," Erika remarked quietly as Brock slid down to sit down next to her, his legs pressed tight up against his chest in order to make himself as compact as possible. "Do you think it's over?"

Ash's body tensed, because Erika was right, and he had noticed the same thing earlier. And if they were right, and the storm had calmed and the seas were not quite as rough, that must mean that Misty's gamble was paying off—that Lucinda had left the gym leaders in the water for dead and gone after the one that had slipped away and restarted her gym in rebellion.

And if Misty had been right, she was also in a lot of danger.

"Come on," Ash ground out through gritted teeth, pumping his legs vigorously. "Can't this thing go any faster?"

Jessie craned her neck to stare at him incredulously. "Only if you get out and push," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "In case you haven't noticed, we're traveling back a bit heavier than we came out."

"Well, we have to beat Lucinda back to the island!" he exclaimed. "She might already be there!" He increased his pace with concentrated effort, his grip knuckle-white on the handle bars. He felt as though he were pedaling against the clock, and not only to get back to the island before Lucinda put her end to Misty's personal rebellion. No, on top of that there was the looming of the bigger clock, the five day deadline that Ash knew, intuitively, without the use of the sun to gauge time with, must be drawing to a close.

And at the end of those five days? He could still recall Samuel's words, branded across his mind. _'Five days she will relive a lifetime, five days will she be mortal, five days of darkness across the land in which she will reclaim her empire. Five days before she comes back into her full power. And if in those five days she is not defeated the sun again would never shine and she would live forever.'_

He only had this one chance, and he only had these five days.

And Misty…

"_If you don't get there before the end of the five days? They'll be killed."_

Somehow Ash was certain that after Misty had escaped and had started battling to give away badged again, Lucinda wouldn't be quite so generous as to give her until the end of the five days.

He pressed harder, his breathing labored as a trickle of sweat made its way from his hairline down the back of his black shirt, running down his skin. "Come on," he urged on Jessie and Meowth, who were keeping up much of their same pace. "We don't have much time!"

"Like, what's going on, Ash?" Daisy asked, a sharp note of worry to her voice. "Is Misty in trouble?"

"Yeah, where is she? What's happened to her?" Violet chimed in, propping her hands on her hips.

"And you better not tell us 'nothing' again or whatever," Lily threatened, her pretty face screwed up in a scowl.

Sometimes, Ash forgot that these were Misty's sisters—she complained about them (and with good reason), and they made fun of her and roped her into doing things to get them out of the messes they made, but they were her _sisters_. They were her family, and despite the teasing and the fighting and the complaining, they loved her, and he knew that she loved them, too. Sometimes it was hard to remember, having grown up with only his mother as his family.

Although, he reasoned, it was much the same when _he _fought with Misty, wasn't it? They fought and called each other names, and she was, through it all, his best friend (best _human _friend, he added silently, his eyes sliding over to Pikachu). His best friend in a different way than Brock was…they were three sides of the triangle, three pieces that made up a puzzle and yet it wasn't all even and equals, and sometimes he just got muddled up when he tried to equate what he felt for Misty with what he felt for anyone else. Because no matter how he tried to rationalize, it always just came down to…that Misty was different.

And he wasn't going to let anything happen to her.

"She's…um…she's battling," he finished lamely, and the three Cerulean sisters stared at him blankly.

"Battling _what_?" Lily asked, honestly clueless.

"James!" Meowth piped up helpfully, and Daisy frowned deeply.

"Like, what do you mean, _battling_?"

"You know," Ash offered weakly. "Pokemon battling. For a Cascade badge."

"Pokemon battling?" Lt. Surge barged in on the conversation. "With what Pokemon? Did she find out where that little demon lady took 'em? Did she get them back?"

"No, no," he replied hastily, making sure to still pedal with all his might while he answered the questions. "She borrowed one of mine."

"Why would she do that?" Erika inquired from her position on the floor, her arms wrapped around her legs. Her forehead wrinkled with confusion.

"Yes, you think we'd have more important things to deal with right now than someone wanting, like, a _badge_!" Violet exclaimed, bewildered.

"She's…kind of acting as…bait for Lucinda," Ash finished, and he cringed as he said it out loud—it sounded so much more foolish, and so much more dangerous, when spoken. "Ow!" he added, clutching the back of his head and craning his neck to stare at Daisy, who had been the one to whack him hard on the back of the head. "What was that for?"

"And _why _did you let her act as bait?" she demanded angrily, so much the older sister in that moment. And Ash, poor Ash, was the outlet for her frustration.

"It was her idea!" he protested.

"And you _let _her?" she screeched again, her fists balled up at her sides.

"Oh, right," Ash grumbled sarcastically. "I should have told her not to do it. That would have worked. I mean, you grew up with her, you know how Misty totally _always _does what other people suggest, _especially _if they disagree with what _she _wants to do. Oh, yeah, that so would have worked."

"So you just, like, gave up," Lily accused, pointing her finger threateningly at Ash, and for some reason this cut him to the heart.

"I didn't _give up_," he snapped, twisting in his seat as far as he could while still pedaling away. "Haven't you noticed how I'm _pedaling as fast as I can_ so that we get back there before anything bad happens? I would.…I'd _never _give up on her."

"Oh, please, spare me the poetry," Jessie grumbled, leaning heavily on her gloved hands that rested on the handle bars in front of her. And although he hated that it was a member of Team Rocket that embarrassed him, Ash felt his face heat up with a furious blush, and so he lowered his head to try and hide it and redoubled his efforts.

Because he was determined to prove to them all, now, that he didn't—and wouldn't—give up.

And so he made sure that he was the first one ashore when they finally reached the island, using his position on the bench and therefore at a spot higher than the rest of the gym leaders to his advantage. He hopped up onto the seat, pushing open the top of the submarine and reaching up to hoist himself out of it.

"Don't bother with a 'thank you'," Jessie grumbled, watching as Ash wiggled out of the submarine, waiting impatiently for her own turn to exit.

His feet hit the solid, snowy ground once more, and he took off on a run. "Misty?" he yelped, racing into the ice tower. His heart pounded up near his throat, his pulse racing as his eyes frantically searched for his friend, hoping, _praying _that he would not find her fallen. "Misty!"

"Ash!" he heard her call back, and he turned the corner and there she was, sitting there almost glumly, James at her side, the battle clearly finished.

He skidded to a stop, struggling to catch his breath. "You're…you're all right?" he confirmed through slightly labored breathing as his heart rate returned to normal.

"I'm all right," she confirmed, standing back up. "But I've been so worried about you! When it didn't work, and she didn't show up, I thought…"

Ash eyed her in confusion, not bothering to turn as he heard the footsteps of his friends following behind him, entering the ice cavern for the first time. "It didn't work?" he asked her, baffled. "But the sea got so calm…I thought that she had to be here."

Misty, wide-eyed, shook her head. "No. Nothing. We had the battle, and that was the end of it." She offered him a weak smile, pulling back the flap of his coat to reveal eight badges, all in neat rows of two. "I won, so you don't even have to wait for me to replace the badge."

"Now I'll never become a Pokemon master!" James lamented, obviously having forgotten about his earlier disdain at the very idea of battling for a gym badge.

"James, you never wanted to be a Pokemon master," Jessie reminded him impatiently as she made her appearance. Behind her followed the rest who had crammed into the submarine, and Misty brightened to see all her friends and family, her fellow gym leaders, safe and seemingly no worse for wear.

"You're all right!" she blurted out, clasping her hands in relief.

"Yeah, thanks to your guys doing some quick thinking," Brock said generously, and Misty couldn't help but smile.

"Come on, Brock, 'you guys'? You know that was all me. Ash isn't capable of quick thinking!" she teased, but Ash only looked solemn, and her smile faded away.

"I don't understand," he said quietly, confused. "Why would she just give up and leave us alone? Let us save everyone from the water _and _let you have a battle here?"

"Does it matter?" Lt. Surge blurted out. "Maybe she realized that she was outnumbered, especially since we have some Pokemon we could use now!"

Ash shook his hand, Samuel's story replaying in his head. "She might be outnumbered, but she would never think she was overpowered."

"And either way, if she doesn't find us we need to find _her_. We need to get our Pokemon back!" Brock said urgently.

"At this this way she won't have the element of surprise," Erika offered.

And on the word 'surprise', there was a loud crack, and the group collectively jumped, spooked. Silence hung in the air for a long moment, and then there was a loud groaning sound and the ice pillar above Misty's head swayed, like a pin stuck by a bowling ball, and then it started careening down towards the group.

"Look out!" Ash yelped, and he grabbed Misty's arm as she was the closest to the falling pillar. The group scattered, clearing a large path for the ice beam to fall, and Ash kept his hand instinctively tight around Misty's wrist.

The ice beam struck the ground with a loud crash, and it shattered upon impact. Ash threw up his arm to block any shards that might fly their way, and next to him, Misty squeezed her eyes tightly shut. The ice splayed against the walls, and some of it headed for the trainers, coolly scraping arms like sharp fingernails.

And as easily and unexpectedly as it had fallen, the world was silent once more.

"Is everyone all right?" Ash asked, breaking the quiet. He lowered his arm and looked around—everyone _seemed _fine, if a bit shaken by the sudden falling of the pillar.

"And _this _is why you should never have a home made out of _natural materials_!" Jessie scoffed, brushing a few stray shards of ice off of her arms, shivering a bit as it melted against her skin, leaving her damp in the cold air.

"Something's not right…" he murmured, slowly releasing Misty's wrist. "That wasn't an accident."

"I think that may be the first perceptive thing I've heard you say," a lilting, taunting voice said, filling the air around them. It was familiar, unhappily so, and Ash turned in a dizzy circle to try and find the source of the sound. He tried to locate exactly, where in this maze of ice, Lucinda was.

Misty's eyes widened; always a bit faster on the uptake than Ash was, and she clamped a hand in horror over her mouth. "Of course," she breathed. "Of course she would wait until you got _back_, not attack while you were gone. Now she has us all in one place!"

Anger, like a hot knife, flashed through his body. He was just so _tired _of this _demon lady_ with her surprises and her tricks, and her refusal to leave them alone. And his trepidation at defeating her with the weapon that Samuel had given them—if they could ever figure out how to use it—flew out the window, because, as Samuel and Misty had both tried to impress upon him, she wasn't a human. She was a spirit, an evil spirit, and one that Ash had had more than enough of.

And who did she think she was, closing the gyms and stealing Pokemon? His Pokemon were his friends, not _tools _to be used and then carelessly discarded until they were needed again. And they were _his_, and he wasn't about to let anyone take them away from him. And he certainly wasn't about to let this…creature, let _Lucinda_ hurt his friends, as she seemed so determined to do.

Ash set his jaw, his mouth pressed into a grim line and his fists balled together. "So, now she has us all in one place!" he yelled, addressing the entire room since he did not know where he could find Lucinda. "Then she needs to come out and face us!"

"Ash…" Misty's voice was hushed and uncertain, but Ash, his eyes blazing, shook his head.

"We're going to end this. No more being afraid."

* * *

As you may be able to tell, we're entering the big climax of the story!

This fic, it seems, will end up being 18 chapters, which means only four left! I'm going abroad for my spring semester to Ireland, so my plan is to have the entire fic finished by the time I leave in mid January, which I think is very doable.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I'm so glad you all enjoyed it, and I hope you'll continue to review for the rest of the story! Also, thank you to everyone who has added this story as a favorite—41 people!—and those who had added it to a C2 community! It's very flattering!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and again, please take the time to leave a review! :-D


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Hey all, sorry this chapter was so long in coming. I've been tired. And busy. And sick. And overloaded with work. And very, very _tired_.

And, well, this was a hard chapter to write, so it was hard to get motivated! But luckily I think the remaining chapters will be easier. So I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 15**

He waited, the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention and a churning feeling in his stomach that betrayed the confidence in his voice. A cold chuckle was the response to Ash's bold declaration, and dizzily, he spun in a circle, looking for Lucinda.

"And why would I want to do that?" she cooed. "It's rather more fun this way, isn't it, Ash?" He bristled—something about hearing her say his name, so mockingly, so sneering, set his teeth on edge.

"What's the matter?" he shouted, spreading his arms wide. "Afraid to face us when we have Pokemon on our side, when we're not defenseless? Afraid to attack without using the element of surprise?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," her voice coolly responded, and from the shadows of the staircase that Ash had followed up to a clearing in a time that seemed so long ago now, red eyes flashed threateningly at him. From the darkness leapt Umbreon, graceful and poised, stopping a few feet short of Ash, Misty, and the others, its eyes glowing menacingly.

Ash felt that familiar surge of excitement at the start of a battle—no matter how high the stakes, it still coursed through his body, and he still welcomed the challenge. "Let's go, Pikachu!" he exclaimed, and Pikachu dropped to all fours, ready for attack.

Umbreon, in turn, slunk down closer to the ground, like a cat poised from pouncing, its eyes narrowing as it regarded its opponents.

"Pikachu, use Thunderbolt!" Ash ordered, still waiting for Lucinda to make her appearance. Instead, all he could hear was her coldly amused laughter as a dark bubble surrounded Umbreon, causing the electricity to bounce harmlessly off, not even coming near to touching, much less causing damage to, the Pokemon within.

"It's protecting itself!" Brock exclaimed from a few feet away, and Ash bit the inside of his cheek in frustration.

The bubble disappeared for a moment as a dark, flashing ball erupted from Umbreon's mouth, an attack that Ash had never come across before—then again, this was the first Umbreon he had come across, so the fact that it had powers he didn't know of was not an unexpected discovery, although it was certainly an unwelcome one.

"Pikachu, jump!" he cried, seeing the ball heading straight for Pikachu and unsure as to how to combat it. His Pokemon obeyed, leaping into the air and letting the ball pass under him, where it moved towards the wall of ice behind them that held the tower up. But then Umbreon narrowed its eyes, and they flashed more brightly for a moment, and the ball changed directions, back towards Pikachu's turned back as the electric Pokemon returned to the ground.

"Pikachu, look out!" But Ash's cry came too late, and the dark ball crashed into Pikachu's back, sending him sprawling on the ground with a cry of pain.

Ash winced. "Are you okay?" he called out to his closet companion, as the ever-determined Pokemon climbed back up to his feet. Pikachu nodded grimly, and Ash nodded, equally as solemn.

"Hurry and use Quick Attack, before it protects itself again!" he commanded, his voice urgent. Despite his injury, Pikachu leapt agily into action, scampering effortlessly over the ice, darting to and fro in order to confuse his enemy as to which direction he would be attacking from.

Umbreon seemed unbothered by Pikach's movements, however, and at the last moment, right before Pikachu pounced, it threw back up its shield, and Pikachu was flung backwards as he made contact with the bubble.

"Come _on_!" Ash ground out, frustrated at the futility of his efforts. Pikachu bounced a few times on his behind before coming to a stop, looking stunned at how easily his attack had been avoided.

"If I keep attacking, it'll just keep putting back up its guard," Ash muttered to himself, thinking. "I have to be able to break through it somehow…"

He reached for the Pokeball at his waist. "Charizard, I choose you!" He wasted no time once the fiery dragon had appeared with a mighty roar. "Use Fire Blast! But concentrate all your power into one thin stream of fire!"

"Good idea, Ash!" Blaine, the resident fire expect, said, approving of the change of tactic. "All you need is one crack and the shield will break!"

"Be careful of the ice!" Brock cautioned. "One wrong move and this whole tower'll come crashing down on top of us!"

Ash laughed, despite himself. "This is no ordinary ice, Brock!" he called back. "You'd know that if you'd seen how hard I tried to break it to get you guys out!" And just thinking back to that, and how hopeless he had felt, having to see his friends, trapped, got him angry once more. "Let's do it, Charizard!"

Charizard looked disgruntled, and Ash wasn't surprised—a small but concentrated stream of flames wouldn't appear very impressive, and Charizard certainly enjoyed showing off its immense power. But it still listened, keeping its jaw fairly shut so that the fire could only escape through the small opening, heading towards Umbreon's shield.

Umbreon regarded Charizard with an almost bored expression on its face, and Charizard's eyes gleamed in anger and hurt pride. Its jaws trembled with the effort of containing itself, and stopping itself from opening its mouth wide and unleashing a wild torrent of fire. But despite the effort, the beam of fire seemed to do nothing to break through the shield.

When the fire stopped for the slightest of moments, so that Charizard could catch its breath, Umbreon took its chance and attacked. The shield disappeared, and a powerful Night Shade headed straight towards Charizard. Its claws went up to its head in agony, and its eyes squeezed tightly closed as it took a few stumbling steps backwards.

"Charizard! Are you all right? Shake it off!" Ash urged, and, with effort, Charizard opened its eyes and stopped its backwards movement, standing its ground willfully.

"Help Charizard out, Bulbasaur!" he cried, throwing the Pokeball high into the air. The small grass Pokemon appeared, and Ash prepared for another attempt at prevailing using pure, raw power.

"Bulbasaur, Razor Leaf! Charizard, Flamethrower! Pikachu, Thunder! Use all your strength!" he exclaimed, and his Pokemon, always so brave, always so ready to stand by him, readied themselves against this seemingly unbeatable adversary.

And yet Umbreon's shield proved too strong for even the combination attack, and, beyond frustrated, Ash ripped his hat off his head and threw it angrily to the ground, not caring if his tantrum seemed childish.

"Just keep trying," he urged, but his words seemed weak and the effort seemed futile, at least until, across the way, he caught Misty's eye.

She gave him a small little smile—surprising, as he had been expecting a lecture on his behavior and about how throwing his hat wouldn't change anything about their situation. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she reached for her pocket, and then Ash grinned.

"All right, guys, stop for a minute—don't use all your power up at once! I need a moment to think…" he told his Pokemon, and almost reluctantly, knowing that an attack from their opponent would be coming, the three stopped their stream of attacks.

And like Pikachu, Charizard, and Bulbasaur had predicted, Umbreon lowered its shield when the attack stopped, powering up for another powerful Night Shade.

Luckily, it was also what Misty had predicted, and luckily, Ash had not taken back his Pokemon upon his return.

"Squirtle, Hydro Pump!"

Umbreon half-turned, baffled, and in its distraction from the new direction of attack, could not protect itself fast enough. Squirtle's Hydro Pump hit the dark creature square in the stomach, like a swift fist, and Umbreon doubled over, the force of the blast lifting it off its feet and sending it across the cavern.

While it was dazed, Ash seized his chance. "Now, Charizard, Fire Blast, and Pikachu, Thunder!" he cried almost gleefully as Umbreon started to climb, dazed and confused that it had actually been _hit_, back to its feet.

The two powerful attacks slammed into Umbreon, and Ash's jubilant cry mixed with Umbreon's cry of distress, and rising above both sounds, vibrating off the walls, was a cry of angered agony, a sound almost inhuman, sharp and raw.

Through the smog of the combined attack, Ash could see that Umbreon had fallen to the ground, and the silhoutte of a woman had appeared next to the hit Pokemon. His heart leapt into his throat, his hands tightening instinctively as he craned forward and squinted, trying to see through the mist, trying to make out his enemy. And when it cleared, and he could see her, he couldn't help but gasp in surprise.

A lifetime she will live in five days…

Gone was the child that had destroyed the Pewter Gym and Cerulean Gym, gone was the teen who resembled Misty so much and yet held so much evil in her heart—this was clearly the Lucinda that had driven Kanto into such fear.

Her features were sharper, tighter, more angular, as though to match her disposition. She had abandoned her girlish braid and instead her red hair was pulled into a tight bun, which only served to make her look more severe.

She clutched her side, as though the attack on Umbreon had caused her physical pain as well. Bent over her hands, she did not seem as imposing, but at this point Ash had learned better than to let his guard down around her, and so he stood at the ready.

When she pulled her hands away, he could see that her dress was slightly singed, as though she had received the backdraft of Charizard's flames. Her eyes, when she looked at Ash, glittered cruelly. "So," she spat, her voice angry and hrash, missing the taunting, smug lilt that she had used before. "You want to play with fire?"

The Pokeball seemed to appear out of nowhere, but suddenly, wherever it had come from, there was one in Lucinda's hands. She tossed it forcefully, putting her anger behind the force of the throw, and a Magmar appeared from the ball's bright glow. Ash frowned at the sight of it—there was something terribly familiar about her Magmar…

"Hey!" Blaine bristled from behind him, punctuating Ash's thoughts as he took a few angry steps forward. "That's my Magmar! Hand him over!"

"Our Pokemon!" Misty exclaimed in horror. "Leave them alone!"

"And _give them back_!" Blaine fairly roared this time, the usually mild-mannered and quirky trainer showing a more fiery temperament when confronted in battle by his own Pokemon.

And before Ash could stop him, before he could even speak a word, Blaine had slipped past them and had started running towards Lucinda and his Magmar, his footsteps echoing off the hollow walls and throughout the chamber.

Lucinda, as ever her style, seemed unalarmed, and she made no effort to move aside. Nor did she issue a single vocal command, but still Magmar leapt into action as seamlessly as if she had given it explicit instructions.

"Blaine, look out!" Ash yelped, and he hurried after the fire trainer—it may be _his _Magmar, but something was wrong with it. Something was wrong about the entire _situation_…

His cry was too late, and instead of reaching Blaine in time, he received the brunt of the force as Blaine was shot backwards by a powerful Flamethrower issued by Magmar. He let out a cry of pain and betrayal as the attack landed a direct hit, and Ash gave a grunt of discomfort as the taller man crashed into him and the two flew backwards several feet before hitting the ground.

They rested together in a heap, Ash wincing under the weight of Blaine, who was collapsed on top of him, charred and burnt along his front in a way that made Ash's stomach churn. "Blaine…are you okay?" he murmured, his voice low and solemn, as befit the situation.

"Magmar…" Blaine gasped, his voice thick and wheezy in agony. "I don't understand…" He clutched at his shirt, now terribly burnt, as though the actual physical proof of the attack would offer him some answers.

"She's controlling it," Ash blurted out. He of course had no proof of the fact, and outside of their one battle he didn't know Blaine's Magmar at all, certainly not enough to predict its behavior. And Ash had, after all, been on the receiving end of quite a few fire attacks from his own Pokemon, one who had more certainly _not _been controlled at the time. But he was pretty sure that he was right in this situation, and even if he wasn't, he knew that it was something that Blaine needed to hear. "She has to be!"

"Ash, look out!" His head shot up at Misty's piercing cry, seeming to come from so far away despite her standing only a few feet from the two trainers. But when he lifted his head, he couldn't see his friend—instead, all he saw was the wave of fire headed their way, licking at them like flames from hell.

He winced and drew back from the heat, trying to crawl backwards and pull the fallen Blaine with him, a feat that improved nearly impossible considering the fact that Ash was still trapped underneath the gym leader. His foot, his leg cramped under the weight of the other man, and, helpless to move, Ash leaned back heavily on his elbows and tried to brace himself for the flames that he knew were to come, squeezing his eyes shut. He had no desire to see the blow coming.

"Ash!" Misty's voice sounded above the roar of the blaze, sharp with panic. He couldn't open his mouth to answer her, couldn't even move or open his eyes again to reassure her. Every muscle in his body had tightened in preparation, taut with waiting…waiting…waiting…

"Squirtle, Squirt!"

Quickly and gracefully, the Pokemon leapt in front of his trainer, its arms splayed wide as it let loose a violent Hydro Pump, the force with which it was expelled seeming odd for its small body. The water connected with a loud crackle with the stream of fire that Magmar had sent their direction, matching it in power and causing the chamber to fill with steam and the ice pillars to smog over, seeming stained and less pristine, and yet, somehow, less foreboding because of it.

Hesitantly, Ash opened his eyes, still stuck under Blaine, and he blinked rapidly as the steam bit at his eyes. "Great job, Squirtle!" he called out, unable to keep the slight tremor from his voice at the realization of how close they had come to certain disaster—and at how glad he was that his Pokemon had such quick reflexes.

He felt hands under his arms, hoisting, lifting, and his feet scrambled for purchase on the slick floor. Brock and Misty, one on each side of him, pulled him to his feet—and wasn't that how it always was, his friends on either side, helping and guiding him when he needed them most? As Ash regained his balance, Erika hurried forward to brace Blaine so that he would not collapse to the ground without Ash's weight behind him.

Lucinda's jaw was set, the muscle working furiously and there was something fascinating—and terrifying—about her anger. He could practically _feel _the raw power that radiated from her—it was almost as palpable as Magmar's flames, and it was powerful enough to burn them all. And yet, he felt a twinge of pride that they were angering her, after facing only her cold amusement that left him with the—usually correct and always unsettling—feeling that she had something else up her sleeve.

"Are you all right?" Erika asked Blaine, her voice laced with concern. She was bent over her fellow gym leader, her arms under his, helping him to sit up but unable to help him stand on her own, being much the smaller of the two.

"How fortunate, someone new to play with," Lucinda snapped, seemingly bored of torturing Blaine with his own Magmar. Or perhaps it was simply that she was very much aware of Squirtle still standing there, strong and determined in stance and ready to leap back into battle if need be. Either way, Magmar disappeared in a stream of light and almost immediately, another Pokeball was flying from Lucinda's hands and towards the group, from which Weepinbell appeared.

Erika's eyes widened. "Weepinbell!" she exclaimed instinctively at the sight of her beloved Pokemon. Still supporting Blaine, she could not take a step forward but instead settled for leaning forward, towards the Pokemon, her face eager and relieved at seeing it again.

Brock, on the other hand, regarded the Pokemon with much more caution in his eyes, remembering the attack that had taken place only moments ago. "Erika, be careful," he warned. "Stay back."

His warning served Erika no good in the end, however, because Weepinbell's vines shot out, quick as a gun shot, and the powerful vines wrapped suddenly around the neck of its trainer, causing her to gasp roughly in shock and horror, and drop Blaine as she was brought swiftly to her knees.

"Erika!" Brock exclaimed as the other trainers cried out in horror, and he dropped Ash's arm to hurry towards the grass trainer at the same moment that Ash lifted that same arm to call Charizard into action.

"Charizard, use—"

"Wait, Ash!" Misty's hand landed on his raised arm, holding him back. "You have to be careful—if you use Charizard you might hurt Erika!"

Brock caught Erika as she fell further from her kneeling position, collapsing back against him, her upper body sprawled across his knees as her face grew whiter and more ashen with each passing moment. Her fingers clawed clumsily at the vines around her neck, desperate but increasingly weak as the struggle, the fight, and the life was pulled from her body.

Brock's hands, on the other hand, were firmer and stronger, though no less desperate as he pulled at the vines, trying to force them to give at least a small space that he could work his fingers into, just that little bit of space that would allow Erika to breathe once more.

"Come on," Misty urged passionately, keeping her hand on Ash's arm and using it to pull him over towards their fallen friend so that they could join the struggle.

"Don't just stand there, troops!" Lt. Surge roared at the remaining gym leaders, standing there rather stunned at the ongoing struggle. "Let's get in there!"

But even as they hurried over, joining Brock and Misty and Ash where they tried their best to free Erika from Weepinbell's constricting grip, it was becoming increasingly obvious that they wouldn't be able to free Erika with their pulling hands along. Pokemon vines were not meant to be beaten off with human hands.

"Come…on…" Ash grunted in effort, his fingers pulling and grasping as best they could. But he found that as the others bore down on him, his fighting against Weepinbell seemed to get less effective. He could hardly move, hardly get a good grip, when comrades pressed down on him from every side.

"This isn't working!" Sabrina panted, echoing Ash's thoughts.

"Keep trying!" Brock responded, his voice harsh and tight with worry as the group became even more a tangle of arms and limbs and fingers, and in the middle was Erika, still gasping, but going quieter and more still with each passing moment.

"Pika!" Pikachu slipped unnoticed beneath the mass of arms, slipping up right near Erika. He grabbed one of the vines between his paws, opening his mouth and swiftly bringing his sharp, small teeth down on it.

"'Bell!" Weepinbell leapt in shock at the actual Pokemon attack, and the vines loosened a bit—just a bit, but enough that Brock was able to slide his hands between the thick vines and Erika's throat, and pull hard just as Pikachu chomped down again.

This time the vines fell away completely, Weepinbell instinctively retreating them at Pikachu's attack, and Erika, white-faced and barely conscious, collapsed backwards into the several pairs of arms that were waiting for her.

"Good thinking, Pikachu!" Misty exclaimed, relieved to see that although Erika was pale and obviously weak, she was beginning to regain her breath and her eyes seemed, if heavy with exhaustion, alert.

"Now, Charizard—Flamethrower!" Ash commanded, taking advantage of the fact that Weepinbell was alone after having released Erika.

"Wait…" Erika begged quietly, her head resting on Brock's knees, and her arms draped across Misty's and Sabrina's laps. "Please don't hurt Weepinbell…"

Ash bit his lip, conflicted—he of course understood Erika's plea. After all, he had thrown himself in the path of danger countless times to protect one of his Pokemon. But in those situations, he hadn't been the victim _of _that very Pokemon. Pikachu had only used Gnaw—it wasn't a very damaging attack, and Weepinbell was already revving up for another attack. And this was an attack that Erika might not survive.

He didn't call back Charizard.

"Erika…" Brock tried to soothe her. "It might attack you again! We have to make it faint."

She closed her eyes, weary, completely wiped from her struggle for breath, and a few tears of dissent slid down her pale cheeks. But she didn't argue any further, nor did she look when Charizard unleashed the torrent of flames on her beloved Pokemon, flames that engulfed the grass Pokemon and quickly knocked it out, outmatched and at a disadvantage against the huge fire Pokemon.

"I'm sorry," Ash told Erika honestly, humbly, because he _was_. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a Pokemon pain outside of a regulated battle, and the fact that he had to in order to ensure their survival in this situation made him hate Lucinda just a little bit more than he already did.

Weepinbell, now useless to Lucinda, disappeared in a ray of light, and then, suddenly, as though she could no longer contain her rage at this second set-back and was expressing it through her own Pokemon, Umbreon sent a ball of dark energy in the direction of the group, still huddled around Erika.

"Move!" Brock barked, grabbing Erika and hoisting her practically onto his back, as she was unable to stand on her own yet. The group broke apart, scattering in every which direction as the ball crashed into one of the ice pillars, sending it hurtling to the ground, in front of a stunned Ash and Misty, who had veered to the left in order to avoid the blast.

"Use it like a barrier!" Ash quickly instructed Misty, and she had barely a moment to marvel on the fact that Ash had thought of the idea before she had—then again, thinking of things to hide behind seemed like something Ash _would _be good at—before another dark energy ball blasted over their heads. She ducked down further, crouching down next to him, feeling Ash breathe raggedly next to her.

He was shaking. He would never admit it, she knew, but she could feel it next to her. Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed his hand, removing it from the fallen pillar on which he had been bracing himself. He squeezed back, hard, but neither looked at the other—neither was willing to face their own fear in the other's eyes.

"Ash…" Misty finally whispered quietly. "We…"

_We might die_.

"We're going to be fine," he cut her off roughly, still not looking at her, but tightening his hand into an almost vice-like grip on her own that betrayed the certainty in his voice. "We're _always _fine!"

Today our luck might run out…

"I'm tired of playing these silly little games!" Lucinda growled, obviously irritated—but in the way that one was irritated by a pest, a bug, some small annoyance that grated but did not seriously threaten. "Don't you understand that it's only a matter of time? There's only one day left, and then I'll have all the time in the world to get your silly little Pokemon and dispose of you properly!"

"Samuel said that they were connected…" Ash murmured quietly, observing Lucinda and the singed dress, one he was sure was immaculate before Charizard had finally landed a direct hit on Umbreon. "We just need one more direct hit…"

"Easier said than done," Misty whispered, her voice lost on the wind, barely a breath.

"We need to distract Lucinda," Ash determined, eyeing the woman with distaste.

"Distract her?" she responded, baffled but making sure to keep her voice down. "How are you going to do that?"

'

"Probably in a way that I'll regret," he replied, a bit morbidly, and then he looked down at his most trusted Pokemon. Pikachu had wedged himself between Ash's body and the ice pillar, only the top of his head peeking over the top so that he could watch what was going on. "You know what to do, buddy?"

"Pi?" Pikachu questioned, looking curiously at his trainer.

Ash smiled grimly. "You will."

Gently, he moved Pikachu from his position, and he released Misty's hand. Perhaps they had spent too much time together, too many years and journeys where she could practically read his mind, because it was this letting-go that made Misty realize what he had planned, and as soon as he let go, she wrapped her hand like Weepinbell's vine, tight around his arm.

"_Don't_," she begged, clutching his arm desperately. "Don't, Ash."

He gave her that stupid, over-confident smile that she hated so much, the one that she usually had some quick snappy remark to wipe it off his face, and no doubt he thought it would make her feel better. But it didn't reach his eyes, and it didn't match his stance, and so she could only stare at him hopelessly, begging him with her eyes what she had already pleaded with her voice.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I always come through in the end, right?"

"_Please_." Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper, but there was no mistaking the weight of her passion behind it. She couldn't look at him anymore—if she did, she was afraid she might start crying, and instead she looked at the ground. And maybe this was her fatal mistake, because without Misty looking at him, Ash stepped out from behind the pillar, calling attention to himself once more.

"Hey!" he called sharply, and Lucinda turned around at the sound of his voice. "You're right," he admitted, spreading his arms wide. "No more games. One on one, me and you. What do you say?"

As he could have predicted, she laughed. "What do I _say_?" she repeated incredulously, and she slowly approached him, the hunter and the prey. Ash fought the urge to take a step backwards and held his ground, looking up at her stubbornly, his shoulders squared and his jaw set.

For a moment, they just looked at one another, sizing each other up, each waiting for the other to make the first move—Ash, because he was the instigator, and Lucinda, because she had always been one to enjoy toying with her victims before putting them out of their misery. Life would be terribly boring otherwise.

Finally, Ash gave a cold smile. "What's the matter?" he asked, his voice heckling, the way it was whenever he tried to get a rise out of someone. "Can't take me on? Always hiding behind the Pokemon?"

When she struck, it was swift as any Pokemon attack, putting this theory quickly out of his mind. Her hands shot out so suddenly that he almost didn't see them before they closed around his throat, much the way Weepinbell's vines had around Erika's, and then suddenly he couldn't breathe and his world was exploding around him.

"_Ash!" _

It was Misty's voice, and he hoped that she wasn't stupid enough to get up from her safe spot behind the fallen pillar. What a waste that would be, if Misty threw it away, threw _her _chance away, because of him.

He could hear a rush of footsteps behind him, sounding so very far away even as they approached, as he raised his hands instinctively to try and fight off the icy grip around his neck, against the hands the squeezed with a superhuman strength, cutting off his oxygen. He knew it was the rest of the group, rushing to his aid as they had rushed to Erika's. And of course he knew that they would try to help him, but he had hoped that they wouldn't be so quick on the uptake…Pikachu needed time, or it would all be for nothing…

_No_…he couldn't croak out the word while Lucinda was denying him the air to do so, but his lips formed it all the same. He just needed a moment…they were coming up on him too fast, and Pikachu was only starting to dart across the floor, careful to stay behind and out of view of Umbreon, who was curiously watching its trainer.

Come on, Pikachu…just a little bit further…

Brock's hands closed around his middle, and, relieved to no longer have to support himself, Ash sagged against his friend tiredly. And there was a mass of other hands, tugging, pulling, trying to free Ash, and yet it might be too soon, if he was free because Pikachu could finish his approach…

Comeoncomeoncomeon…

"_Pi…ka…CHU!_"

And suddenly, he could breathe again, and he fell against Brock and Lt. Surge, their combined weights easily supporting him. He took a few deep breaths, rubbing his throat instinctively as though he couldn't believe that he was free, and he squinted in the blinding light that filled the room.

Pikachu's Thunder attack hit its intended target and the light bounced off the clear ice walls and floor, illuminating the entire tower with more brightness than anyone there had seen since the sun had disappeared almost five days ago.

Lucinda didn't cry out the way that she had the first time they had landed an attack on Umbreon, and for a moment Ash feared that Pikachu had missed. But there had been the fact that she had let go…_that _certainly had to be a sign that _something _had gone right. With the light burning his eyes, he could see neither Lucinda nor her Pokemon, and therefore no way to be certain under the last sparks of electricity had faded, leaving the room silent, still, and darkened as it had been before.

Ash blinked a few times to clear his vision, and Brock and Lt. Surge pushed him gently back up to his feet.

"You all right, son?" Lt. Surge asked him, clapping him on the back hard enough that he almost fell_ forward _this time, if not for Brock grasping his arm to steady him again.

"Yeah…" Ash said, looking around, still on guard, more than half-expecting Lucinda to leap out from behind one of the still-standing pillars. "Yeah, I'm okay…"

The group, shaken but at the very least alive, was silent for a moment as they gathered themselves again and recovered their wits. And finally it was Violet who said what they were all thinking, hoping, but were too afraid to say.

"I think she's…like…gone."

Ash cringed as soon as the words left Violet's mouth, as though the sentence alone would bring back Lucinda and put them right back into the danger they had just averted, but after another moment of quiet where nothing happened and no one moved and nobody popped out of anywhere, he finally, _finally _allowed himself to relax.

"I thought we needed that…weapon? The one Misty got from Samuel?" Brock asked, always a bit more cautious than his younger friend.

"I guess he was wrong…I guess there was another way to get rid of her!" Ash exclaimed, not very worried about the semantics of how or why Lucinda was gone—all he knew was that she _was_, and in the end that was all that mattered.

And then he leapt towards his Pokemon, kneeling down to wrap Pikachu up in a big, well-deserved hug. "Great job, buddy!" he exclaimed, giving him a squeeze, thrilled that his plan had worked the way he had hoped and that Pikachu had been just in time. "I _told _Misty that it would work and that I knew what I was doing!" And despite himself, he couldn't _wait _to lord it over her…it wasn't often that he got to rub it in to Misty that _he _had been _right_.

"Ash…" Brock's voice sounded unnerved, and he gripped Ash's shoulder tightly as his eyes wandered over the crowd. Daisy, Violet, and Lily, dusting themselves off and fussily straightening their clothes; Sabrina, helping a shaken and weak-kneed Erika to her feet; Blaine, finally recovering from the shock of his attack and climbing to his feet with effort; Lt. Surge, regarding them with his large, powerful arms folded, waiting to swoop in to help anyone who may need it…"Ash, where's Misty?"

"What?" Ash snapped at attention at that, his hand freezing on top of Pikachu's head, where he had been lavishing his Pokemon with praise, having gathered over Squirtle, Bulbasaur, and Charizard as well. He straightened up, his eyes following the same path that Brock's had, and then he turned in a dizzy circle, as though expecting to see the redhead behind him.

Slowly, the relief that had flooded him upon the passing of Pikachu's attack, the fading of the light and the realization that Lucinda was gone faded, living a cold, empty feeling in its place. "Misty!" he called out sharply, hoping that perhaps their missing friend had simply ducked behind one of the pillars of ice that still stood strong and intimidating. "Hey, Misty!"

There was no answer, nor had Ash really expected there _to _be one, but he had unfortunately succeeded in attracting the attention of the rest of their companions.

"What?" Daisy jumped in, hearing her sister's name. "What about Misty?" She glanced over both of her shoulders, and her face grew more startled as she realized that the youngest Cerulean sister was nowhere to be seen. "Like, where is she?"

"I don't know," Ash replied tightly, and then cupped his hands over his mouth. "Misty!"

His voice vibrated off the tall, cold walls of the tower, echoing back to him, but there came no response from that voice that he knew so well.

"Misty!" Daisy joined the call now.

"Hey, Misty!"

"_Misty!_"

There was no answer. Only calls that grew more and more panicked as the group, so relieved only moments ago, came to terms with the inevitable: that Lucinda and Umbreon were not the only ones missing.

Misty, too, was gone.

* * *

And with this chapter, we're officially novel-length! Woohoo!

Again, I apologize for the delay! I hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter—it was probably the hardest to write since it was just a series of action scenes. Only three more chapters left!


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I had hoped to have this chapter done in time for the one year anniversary of this fic, but, alas, with finals that was simply not possible.

So instead, I'd like to wish everyone who celebrates a very Merry Christmas, and enjoy the time off for those who don't celebrate. =)

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon or any of its characters or concepts.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight**

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 16**

The sweet swell of triumph that had flooded the room like a rogue wave from Lucinda's storm quickly dissipated, and all fell eerily silent when Misty didn't respond to their calls. They looked between one another, searching for the answers on the faces of their comrades, and eventually, all eyes turned to Ash, and he found that he had no one to look to.

"I don't…" he turned in a slow circle, as though expecting to see Misty jump out from a hiding spot, from one of the fallen pillars, despite the fact that he had seen her leap from her crouching position when Lucinda had wrapped her fingers around his neck. "I don't understand what went wrong…" he finished numbly.

A wave of exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks, and he sank down onto his knees as his legs gave way under him. He slumped forward, resting his palms against the icy floor, the weight of the world and the weight of his friend's safety heavy on his shoulders, causing him to slump as though it were a physical burden that he carried. Ash was so tired of running—of running after Lucinda, of trying to out-run the clock, when in the end, he found himself outmatched each time. He had tried everything…_everything_. He had tried his best, he had pooled all his resources, used all his ideas. And now Misty…_Misty_…was gone.

As though sensing his hopelessness, Brock's hand came down on his shoulder again, this time giving him a firm shake. "Come on," he urged passionately. "Get up, Ash. It's not too late. We still have time." He gestured to the entrance of the tower, from which they could see the dark night air that hung over the world like a persistent shadow.

"Time for _what_?" Ash fairly exploded, his frustration bubbling over. "Time to search all of Kanto? Time to figure out how to actually _beat_ this…psycho? No, Brock, _we don't have time_!"

"She's injured!" Brock pointed out, his arms spread wide to illustrate his point. "How far could she have possibly have gone with an injured Pokemon and _Misty _in tow?"

When Ash didn't answer, Brock knelt down next to him, bringing himself down to his friend's level. "Come on, Ash," he implored again. "What other choice do we have? Just let her win? Since when do you give up when there's still a chance, however small, that we could beat her?"

Seeing that Ash still looked uncertain, the Pewter gym leader pulled out his winning card. "What about Misty? After all this, are you just going to give up on her?"

Ash flinched, as though the words made him physically uncomfortable.

It seemed so long ago, so long ago he had had that dream when sailing across the water with Gary. _Don't let go_, the Misty in his dream had begged, and he had promised her. And he had made another promise, a promise to Lucinda—_I'm not leaving without her_.

He had promised, two very different promises and neither ones that he was expected to uphold…but Ash was not the type of person to break his promises, no matter what sort of conditions they were made under, and no matter the odds against his actually being able to keep them. He _had _to keep them. For Misty, for Misty's _sisters_, their gazes white-hot on him as he sat crumpled on the floor…and for himself.

Ash set his jaw in a firm line, raising his gaze from their fixed position on the ground in order to meet Brock's eyes. "You're right," he admitted, and next he sat back up from his slumped position, as though slowly, surely, the fight and the life was flooding back into his body.

Brock grinned, obviously satisfied with Ash's decision. "Yeah, I always am," he teased. "Thought you were used to it by now." Despite himself, Ash smiled, the familiar teasing almost as comforting, at the moment, as Brock's homemade stew.

"But how are we going to find her?" Daisy voiced the concern on all of their minds, her voice sharp with concern, her face tense and mirroring the expression on the faces of the other remaining Cerulean Sensational Sisters. Sibling rivalry and teasing aside, Misty was their _sister_, their _baby _sister.

"Good question," Brock mused. "Do any of you have anything of Misty's? Or do you, Ash?"

Ash frowned in thought, instinctively digging into his pockets. Without Misty's trademark red backpack, Misty hadn't had many—if any—possessions on her. "I don't think…oh, wait." He withdrew the small golden cylinder that Misty had handed him and ordered him to figure out, the mystery of which he had failed to solve. Their only weapon, and their only chance.

He offered it out to Brock, who took it with a spark of recognition on his face. "It's been in my pocket for awhile, but Misty had it longer," Ash explained. "Samuel gave it to her. It's supposed to…well, be the 'key' or whatever to beating Lucinda. It's some kind of weapon. But we don't know how to work it."

Brock nodded. "She showed it to me, too," he confided. "And I couldn't figure it out, either." He turned it over a few times in his hands, as though searching for something that he missed. Clueless, he sighed, but then knelt down on the ground near Pikachu. "But it should at least help us find Misty. She had it the longest."

Ash knelt down next to Brock, forming a sort of huddle with his friend and his Pokemon, and the three stared down at the golden tube in Brock's hands. "What do you think, Pikachu?" Ash asked, unable to keep the note of hope out of his voice.

Cautiously, as though distrusting the artifact itself, Pikachu sniffed at the weapon, and then put his nose to the ground, sniffing again, the small snuffling the only sound penetrating the tense silence.

Almost immediately Pikachu's ears perked up, and he leapt back up to his feet, pointing towards the long, winding staircase that they had taken days earlier. "Pika! Pikachu!" he exclaimed, obviously excited by his discovery.

Ash, likewise, found Pikachu's jubilation catching, and was unable to keep his own excitement out of his voice when he responded. "Up there? They went that way?"

"Pikachu," Pikachu nodded firmly, his voice heavy with conviction, and he took a few scampering steps towards the staircase, looking expectedly over his shoulder at Ash and Brock.

"Great!" Brock enthused, jamming the fated weapon into the pocket of his jeans.

"Then let's go," Ash decided firmly.

"We're coming, too!" Daisy blurted out.

"Like, we are?" Lily squealed, more apprehensive than her sister.

"Of course we are! It's like, Misty!" Daisy scolded.

Ash shook his head. "You wait here," he said, addressing the entire group. "Brock and I'll go. It might just be a dead-end. You guys stay with Erika and Blaine." He gestured to the two, obviously still weakened from the attacks of their own Pokemon. "And we'll be back in a little bit…hopefully with Misty."

Lily and Violet looked relieved—though perhaps a bit guilty at their own reluctance. Daisy, on the other hand, still looked troubled.

"But…what is she…like…needs our help?" she asked quietly, and Ash felt his heart go out to her, so caught up in the same fears that were currently plaguing him.

He took a few steps over to her, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze, and he made another promise, another promise that he would make sure that he kept.

"Don't worry," he told Daisy. "Me, Brock, and Pikachu…we'll find her. And I won't let anything happen to her. But we need you guys to stay here and take care of Erika and Blaine, in case Lucinda comes back."

She bit her lip, her big eyes still looking uncertain, and she twisted a lock of her silky hair nervously around her finger. "She's our sister," she said quietly. "And we like, make fun of her and everything…but we still, like, _love _her. You know?"

"Yeah," Ash replied honestly, without thought. The words flowed effortlessly and truthfully, because he _did _know exactly what Daisy meant. "I know."

"Hey, Ash," Brock suddenly realized, glancing around. "Misty's not the only one missing. Where's Team Rocket? Not that I feel the same pressing need to run to their rescue, but they _did _help us out…"

Ash glanced around, curiously. "Huh. Figures the one time we're looking for them, they're nowhere to be seen." He wandered out towards the beach of the island, near the opening of the tower, where they had landed not long ago. The Magikarp submarine that had carried them all to shore was gone and the waves lapped lazily at an empty shore.

"I guess they left," Brock's voice sounded from a few feet behind him, and Ash glanced over his shoulder and nodded.

"I guess Lucinda showing up scared them off," he suggested. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, feeling no anger or resentment towards his rivals for their disappearance act. If anything, he felt only a faint sense of…jealousy, that they had even been able to make such a convenient exit. "Can't say I blame them."

"Me either," Brock admitted, shaking his head ruefully. "They actually really helped us out, didn't they?"

Ash laughed a bit to himself, small chuckle under his breath—his heart was too heavy with worry for anything greater. "Yeah, they did," he agreed. "Maybe next time we'll go easy on them in battle."

"Pikachu!" Pikachu protested violently, glancing up at his trainer, and Ash cracked a grin.

"Maybe not," he changed his mind.

And with that, he turned away from the beach, heading back towards the staircase that led far up above the ground floor with the crashed pillars of ice. Pikachu took this for the go-ahead sign, and began bounding neatly up the stairs, Ash and Brock hurrying behind him, their footsteps echoing off the cold, forlorn, silent walls.

"How tall is this thing?" Brock panted as the staircase spiraled and spiraled, curve after curve—ones that Ash now, at least, was prepared for.

Ash tried to laugh, but despite knowing ahead of time that the stairs stretched an impossible difference, he still found himself short of breath, and so his laughter came out as more of a gasp. "Way too tall," he confided.

Besides this exchange, the three didn't talk on their journey to the top, instead conserving all their energy for putting one foot in front of another, taking stair after stair, until finally they turned that final corner, and the last set of stairs stretched before them, seeming so much more welcoming than all the stairs before them.

"Pika…pi!" Pikachu squealed, his determination renewed, and he doubled his pace, almost sprinting uip the remaining stairs.

"Come on," Ash murmured to Brock, careful to keep his voice low, now that there was the chance that Lucinda might be in proximity. "Misty _must _be up there if Pikachu is that excited." Encouraged by Pikachu, the two picked up their pace, their breathing heavy and their foreheads and collars damp with sweat from their effort.

At the top of the stairs, at that clearing that was so familiar, Ash skidded to a stop so quickly that Brock slammed into his back, nearly knocking them both off their feet.

An old woman sat upon the snow-capped tower top, her white hair sparse and thin and her skin criss-crossed with a thousand creases, as though a thousand cruelties were reflected upon her face. Her dress seemed tattered, as though she had been sitting there for a very long time, as though she were part of the landscape of this nightmare.

Ash wouldn't have even recognized his adversary had she not been bent over her Umbreon, stroking its fur as it lay there with its red, cold eyes glazed over in pain. Lucinda seemed uncertain as to what to do for her Pokemon, and it was almost tragic, how someone so powerful, with more psychic ability than anyone living, could not help her Pokemon after a simple battle because she did not know, in the slightest, how to use her power for good.

This was Lucinda at the end. This had been Lucinda when Kanto had finally been able to raise its head and look forward to the future. And yet this was Lucinda at the end of her five days of midnight…this was Lucinda when their time was almost up, and soon she would be restored to her full power, and she would be unstoppable.

And they still didn't know how to use their only weapon against her, in these moments as the last grains of time slipped away from them.

So absorbed in her task, neither of the two on top of the tower paid any attention to the newly arrived Ash, Brock, or Pikachu. Nor was any attention paid to the third of their party, the girl collapsed against the snow several feet away, her bare legs curled up near her chest as she rested on her side, her red hair a sharp contrast to the vividly white ground. Misty, Ash was relieved to realize, didn't look hurt, but rather merely sleeping, his jacket still wrapped tightly around her.

He nudged Brock next to him lightly, keeping his breathing quiet and not daring to speak lest Lucinda look up and notice them. Barely moving, he nodded very slightly towards Misty's direction so that the other boy would notice her.

There was simply no way, however, to get to her without bringing attention to the fact that they were there—the slight crunch of snow under Ash's sneakers as he took a single step forward affirmed this belief, and in fact, was enough noise for Lucinda's head to fling up and fix the two trainers and their accompanying Pokemon with a defiant, angry stare.

And for a long moment, the four simply looked at each other as the Umbreon on the ground closed its eyes wearily, trying to catch some much-needed rest. At the standstill of their battle, there was nothing to be said that had not already been threatened, shouted, or otherwise declared. And although Lucinda looked meek and old and weary at this point, Ash knew that it was only a deception at the end of the five days, and, in fact, she was closer to winning than ever.

But at the moment, she looked angry at her own inability to help her Pokemon—and angry at the intruders, for that matter.

"Well, I can't just seem to get a moment's peace from you, can I?" she asked Ash sourly, her lips pursed unpleasantly.

He scowled in response. "Funny, I was just thinking the same thing," he muttered.

Her lips turned up in a bit of a sneer. "Come to rescue your friend? How very noble."

Neither Ash nor Brock answered her. Ash, at least, thought that no answer was required—their presence spoke for itself; their intentions were clear.

Despite her now seemingly advanced age, Lucinda was still able to move with fluidly and grace, although her movements seemed slower and with more effort behind them as she slowly rose to her feet, leaving Umbreon resting in the snow.

Now that she was standing, he could see that the tatters on her dress were from singe marks—the remains of Pikachu's attack. Her arms, the skin paper-thin and translucent, was marred with angry red burn marks, and before remembering exactly who—or _what_—he was dealing with, Ash, despite himself, felt a sudden surge of remorse. He remembered the reluctance he had shown to Samuel when told that he would have to hurt someone, no matter how evil or inhumane that someone may be, in order to keep the world safe this time. And he still, despite it all, wished that there was some other way, or that they had managed to avoid the entire messy business all together.

"That was a rather clever trick," Lucinda admitted almost casually, as though Ash was her comrade, rather than a bitter enemy. "Distracting me so that your Pokemon could attack from behind. I wouldn't have thought you to have the brains for an idea like that."

The slight insult wasn't lost on Ash, but it rolled off him like water—it was nothing worse than what Misty implied on a regular basis.

"Pika…" Pikachu grumbled threateningly at Ash's feet. His cheeks sparked with electricity, his small dark eyes narrowed in distaste at the very sight of Lucinda.

"But what now?" she mused, mockingly, a slow smile spreading across her features like a pleased cat, marring her face with even more wrinkles. "You're running out of time, aren't you, boys? Aren't you tired of fighting the inevitable?"

"You won't get away with this," Brock swore, but it was empty-sounding even as the words left his lips. Without a plan, without a course of action, to back up his declaration, he didn't feel confident in the slightest in telling Lucinda that she wouldn't win. All he had to back him was the past—the fact that good would, of course, triumph—there was no other way, was there?

There was no other way that he wanted to consider, no other way that he could imagine living his life, under the thumb of this oppressor.

Lucinda seemed unconvinced by Brock's declaration, and instead she moved slowly away from the two boys and Pikachu, heading, Ash assumed, back towards her own fallen Pokemon. But she passed Umbreon completely, instead approaching Misty, collapsed on the snow.

Something in Ash snapped, and it was only Brock's tight, sudden grip on his arm that stopped him from charging blindly forward. "Don't touch her!" he growled, his hands gritted into tight fists at his sides.

Lucinda spared him an amused look over her shoulder as she reached Misty's side, the girl crumpled in a sleeping heap at the old woman's feet. She made no move to kneel next to her, but despite that, Ash could not keep his body from tensing even move.

"So much trouble, all for this scrawny little thing," she mused. She gave Ash a sly smile, mocking, taunting. "She must be special, hmm?"

Ash refused to answer, standing in stony silence, his lips pressed firmly together in an angry line.

"It must get so tiresome," she practically cooed, her words weaving around him like the tentacles of a Tentacruel. "Being the chosen one, the savior of everyone. Does the weight of the world get heavy on your shoulders?"

And he tried to close out her words, tried to close out her meaning, even as that traitorous voice deep within him, a part he had hidden away, whispered back, _yes, it is tiresome, no, I don't want to do this anymore…_

"Especially," she predicted, "when you want so badly to be a Pokemon master, don't you? All those other trainers, all with the same dream—and none with the responsibility. They can concentrate on their training, on collecting their badges and winning their battles. Why is it you, of all the people in the world, that has to worry about so much more?"

They were all the questions he had asked himself all along, the questions he had asked himself at a time that seemed so long ago now, but what had merely been a few days, when Misty had spoke of a legend and he…he had refused to listen. Because for once, for _once_, Ash had wanted it to be someone else's problem.

It made him feel terribly selfish, which was why that voice inside him was muffled, silenced, whenever Ash did what needed to be done. With the fate of the world at stake, how could he think of himself? How could he be so selfish as to worry about how it would affect _him_, affect _his _plans, when there was so much at risk?

But even if he berated himself whenever those thoughts surfaced, and pushed them down again, he couldn't stop himself from having them. And with Lucinda's words, winding around him with serpent-like slyness, they bubbled up in his chest, that familiar protest—_why me? Of all people? _

Had he ever made the choice, or had it been made for him all along?

"And what do you get for you, in the end, Ash? All that wasted time, all that time you could have spent honing your skills…think how much further along you would be in your journey if the weight of the world wasn't always on your shoulders…"

"You're crazy," Brock flared up, and Pikachu gave an emphatic nod of agreement. "You're crazy, and all you think about is yourself."

Ash blinked, as though trying to see through a dense fog, the fog of regret and second thoughts that was clouding his brain with traitorous thoughts. Was Brock right, and Lucinda's tempting speeches were merely the words of a maniac? Or _did _he take too much of the world's troubles upon himself? _Was _it hindering his ultimate quest?

"All you _need _is yourself," Lucinda snapped back, correcting Brock. "All you need is yourself, and all that matters is what you can accomplish and the glory and power you can obtain for yourself."

Her declaration cut through Ash's muddled thinking like a razor, and he shook his head viciously as though to shake Lucinda's very thoughts from his brain, those thoughts that he had almost, for a moment, allowed himself to believe. But in this point, she was so wrong—so _completely _off the mark, that her tempting words fell away, useless and discarded.

Everything he had ever wanted…everything he had worked for, everything he had dreamed…none of it would be worth it if he didn't have his friends, his family, his Pokemon, by his side through it all. When he saw himself at the stadium, at the end of the final battle, surrounded by adoring fans all cheering his name…it was their faces he saw. His mom…Professor Oak…Brock, Tracey. And Misty. Beaming with pride, rushing to him to hold his arms high in victory as his beloved Pokemon danced about the field in triumph.

Without them…the vision was meaningless. Without them…the victory was hollow.

"Didn't you have friends?" Ash blurted out, his mind unable to grasp the idea that Lucinda truly—after living a lifetime and returning again—believed that a life alone and self-served was the best the world had to offer. "Any at all?"

She eyed him coolly, clearly unimpressed by his passion. "I had my dream," she told him icily, and then her eyes blazed, suddenly full of rage. "And now you—all of you—are trying to take it from me! My whole life, I had nothing except my power and my position, and all my life, they tried to take it away! The one thing that I had to live for!"

And she reached down, so quickly that none of the trio on the stairs—Ash nor Brock nor Pikachu—had time to react as she snatched Misty's wrist in an iron grip, hauling the girl to her feet with one hand. It was eerie, seeing Misty hanging there, her feet barely grazing the ground, her head lolling uselessly to the side, while this old woman completely supported her body.

"Wait!" Ash yelped, Brock crying out for her to stop at the same moment.

For one terrible, awful moment that seemed to stretch on forever, Misty seemed to suspend in air, lifeless and ghost-like. And then, suddenly, quick as lightning, Lucinda had released her, her arm flinging backwards. Then Misty was falling, limp as a doll, off the edge of the cliff, the very one that Ash had clung to so desperately the first time he had discovered what had happened to his friends.

He didn't recognize the sound that ripped from his throat when Lucinda let go—it sounded almost inhumane in its anguish. He flew forward, tripping over his feet in his haste so that he collapsed onto the snow, and he scrambled on his hands and feet to the edge of the cliff, peering over the edge, as though he expected to see Misty see hovering in the air as she had when Lucinda had had her in her grasp.

Ash's eyes desperately searched the dark, churning waters far below for a bright flash of red hair at the surface. With a thump, Brock landed next to him, his breathing loud in Ash's ear as he, too, grasped onto the edge of the cliff and peered over.

"Do you…" Ash's voice was raw, and quivered slightly, and he refused to finish his question, and he refused to even look at either Brock or Pikachu for confirmation of his worst fears.

"I…" Brock trailed off, similarly unable to put the horrible situation into words.

The two continued to stare, Ash holding his breath, feeling his heart pounding in his ears. It was like his dream, lost out on this very sea with Gary, his dream where he was holding his friends up from the edge of falling into nowhere…falling into the crashing waves…and he had failed, just had he had failed now. He had failed to save Misty, and like Samuel had said—the leader of Cerulean, it would have to be water. The thing she loved the most, the ultimate downfall.

"Misty…" he whispered. "Misty?"

His arms gave out under him, and he collapsed onto the snow, the cold nipping into his nose and cheeks. Above him, the wind rustled his hair, like a caring touch, and below him, the waves continued to lap lazily at the shoreline.

The ripples caused by Misty's falling body were gone, and she had still not appeared.

"There," Lucinda's sneering voice stung like a dagger, and Ash physically flinched as he heard it. "There. Now we've both lost something precious."

Brock and Pikachu both started in shock when Ash jumped to his feet, and he didn't blame them for their surprise at his sudden movement. Even he seemed unaware of what his body was doing, choosing to not think but simply _react_ to the blind rage that coursed through his body, running through his veins and setting his blood afire.

Ash had thought he had hated before—he thought he hated Team Rocket, he thought he hated Gary, but obviously those had just been feelings of irritation and mild dislike—because he _hated _Lucinda. And it was a scary feeling, but empowering at the same time, and he wondered, vaguely, at the back of his mind where he was still capable of rational thought, if this was how Lucinda had always led her life—living off the power and high of pure, raw, hatred.

But then he thought of Misty, Misty falling, helpless and limp, over the edge and out of his sight, and all rational thought flew from his mind.

He plunged his hand into his pocket, closing his hand around the small gold cylinder that Samuel had given him, and he withdrew it. It was of no use to him, but he hoped that it would do something—_something_—to aid him.

"Pikapi?" Pikachu blinked in confusion as Ash withdrew the gold cylinder, looking back and forth between Brock and Ash, as though trying to place an exchange of hands that he might have missed. Brock, however, looked similarly puzzled, but the puzzled look faded after a moment and was replaced by horror as Ash flew at Lucinda in a blind rage, swinging his arm carrying the golden tube at her, his feet viciously kicking up the powdered snow in his wake.

"Ash!" he exclaimed in warning, taking off after his friend. Despite being taller, Ash was faster, and he reached Lucinda first, ready to strike. If anything, he would simply knock her on the head with the tube—it had to be good for that at the very least.

But Lucinda caught Ash's flailing arm easily, twisting with enough power to bring him to his knees in agony, and he realized why it was that she was so easily able to fling Misty aside despite her seemingly advanced age. She was still strong—incredibly so—and now he was at her mercy.

She laughed at the sight of the golden tube in his hands, obviously having recognized it. "You don't even know how to use it, do you?" she crowed. She plucked it easily from Ash's hand, still trapped painfully in her grasp, and with the same ease that she had tossed Misty over, she threw it over the edge of the cliff.

"_No_!" Brock was the one to blurt out. Watching it fall was like watching their last hope fall. Wasn't that was Ash had said—that Samuel had told him it was the only way to defeat Lucinda? And now that time was running out, and their last option had literally been ripped from them, was there nothing left but…resignation?

Ash, however, didn't utter a sound, simply opting to stare up at Lucinda with disgust and distaste in his brown eyes, his lips pressed in a firm, angry line.

"Maybe someday you'll thank me," she pondered, her eyes twinkling with malevolent glee. "Maybe someday you'll understand how love can make you weak. All the unnecessary emotion will always keep you from achieving your full potential. You'll always feel tied to someone, to something."

And now she released his arm, dropping it carelessly as though Ash, himself, were a distasteful piece of garbage that she had plucked curiously from the ground. And that was how she regarded him—with disgust in her eyes, and an almost twisted sense of pity, heavily laden with condensation.

"And you," she predicted, "you and your big heart just oozing love for everyone, for that _girl_—you'll never be a Pokemon Master."

Carefully, Ash picked himself up from the ground, wiping the snow distractedly from his jeans, which were now riddled with dirt and holes. _Mom would have a field day_, he thought oddly, distantly, as he kept his attention to the ground, steeling himself before finally, _finally _raising his eyes to Lucinda.

Her face was twisted in such an ugly, sneering expression, and she no longer looked frail to Ash as she had when they had first approached the mountain top—perhaps because now he knew for certain that while she may resemble an old woman, she certainly did not have only the strength of one.

She was so riddled with hate, it seemed to radiate off her body and it weighed heavily on Ash, enough so that he had to fight the urge to sink back down to his knees. She was so angry, and so hateful, and yes, she was powerful, but at what sacrifice? If this—_this_—was the face of a Pokemon Master, than Ash wanted no parts of it. Not like this, at least. He would be his own Master…one without sacrificing love and emotion and his friends and family from his life.

And he had listened with such interest and awe when Samuel had detailed Lucinda's accomplishments and powers, and the Pokemon in her possession and the battles she had won. But she wasn't remembered—only reviled—and in the end, when given a second chance, she wanted to use it again, for evil, rather than to try and fix the broken life she may have led.

His eyes wandered to her Umbreon, curled up in the snow on its side, and he felt a small pang of pity—_there are no evil Pokemon,_ he resolved, despite Samuel's insinuations. _Only evil people who make them do evil things_. And he recalled his first thoughts upon coming to the top of the mountain again—for all of Lucinda's powers, she couldn't even help her own Pokemon. She couldn't even do that little bit of good, because she simply didn't know how.

Ash met Lucinda's eyes again, and, despite himself, he smiled, the corners of his lips tugging up. "You know, maybe you're right," he conceded, and his smile grew slightly as he saw Lucinda's eyes widen in surprise. But she was right—maybe he would never be a Master, maybe he would never fulfill his dreams.

But he would always, _always _have his family, and his friends, and his Pokemon, to love and be loved, and therefore he would always be all right.

He would always have Misty, too, and he would make sure of that. Because he had promised, and because…because maybe…maybe Lucinda was right about that, too.

"But still," he added, honestly, "I feel sorry for you."

She recoiled in shock, as though he had struck her at the very core with his pity, but before she could come up with a stuttering reply, Ash turned on his heel, approaching Brock and Pikachu, still hovering near the edge of the cliff where they had, in horror, watched Misty's fall.

He met Brock's eyes with a steady gaze, giving him a sly smile. "Good thing," he said quietly, hoping to not be overheard, "that Samuel said those souvenirs were only 5.99. Shouldn't be too upset over losing it."

Brock's eyes flickered with recognition, and his hand wandered instinctively to his pocket, and Ash grinned at him. He offered no further explanation—the danger of Lucinda's overhearing was too great, and besides…he trusted Brock. Brock would know what to do.

They were part of a team, after all.

Now he knelt down next to Pikachu, who wandered a bit closer with a look of confusion on his face.

"Hey buddy," Ash said, ignoring the small pang in his heart as he rested a hand on Pikachu's head. "Hold onto this for me for awhile, okay?"

And he removed his trusty official Pokemon League cap, unwilling to risk its loss, and he placed it snugly on his Pokemon's head, fitting it between his ears.

"Pi?" Pikachu questioned, but Ash didn't explain.

He knew if he did, one of them—Brock or Pikachu—would try to stop him.

He stood back up, taking those few steps closer to the edge of the cliff, over the churning ocean waters.

It looked cold, and it was high up, and Ash wasn't a very good swimmer.

_Don't let me fall, she begged in his dreams_.

He wouldn't.

And he glanced once over his shoulder, giving a reassuring glance at his friends who were staring at him agape, and he caught a quick glance of Lucinda, as well, who still looked dumbfounded that Ash, that _Ash _of all people, would pity her, when she had been so certain that he would resent her for what she had—his dream.

He turned back, squaring his shoulders and steeling his nerve. The wind rustled his now-freed hair, and Ash took a moment to take a deep breath and enjoy the brisk crispness of the air, rushing into his lungs.

And then he jumped.

* * *

Sorry again for the terribly long delay—I did work to get this done by Christmas! And sorry to leave you hanging! Luckily (or unfortunately, depending on your point of view) there are only two chapters left, and I plan on getting them both done before I leave for Ireland on February 1st…meaning both chapters should be done in the next month!

Please do not call me out for continuity errors that you think you may have found until you read the next two chapters. There are still some twists ahead! ;-)

Thank you so much for the continued support from all my amazing reviewers! Please continue to leave your thoughts—getting that 'Review Alert' brightens my day!

I hope you all have an awesome Christmas/whatever holiday you celebrate! And I will see you soon—much sooner than it took me to get THIS chapter done!


	17. Chapter 17

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A/N: Um. Yes.

So basically, I'm really, really sorry that this fic hasn't been updated in six months. Part of the reason, of course, was being in Ireland—I had classes Monday-Wednesday and then travelled most weekends Thursday-Sunday. But then there was just lack of motivation, as well…and for that, I do apologize and hope that you guys are still reading! And after this there is only one chapter left, which HOPEFULLY will be much quicker in coming. I make no promises (except that it WILL be finished) but hope to have it done within a month.

On another note, we've hit over 200 reviews! That's super exciting, as I was hoping to have 200 reviews at the end of the fic, and here we've hit that milestone two chapters early! Please keep it coming, the feedback after last chapter was so exciting and encouraging!

Disclaimer: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me.

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**Five Days of Midnight **

_Some Enchanted Evening_

**Chapter 17**

It was as though Brock's heart fell with Ash, over the edge to join Misty in the churning waters below.

He quickly peered over the edge, Pikachu leaping onto his shoulder to do likewise, each holding their breath and hoping against hope to see their friends reappear above the water's surface. But the water was so far below them, and without his trusty red and white cap, Ash's dark head was indistinguishable against the dark ocean. There was no sight of Misty's brighter hair, no flash of copper against the sheet of darkness.

"Pikapi?" Pikachu's voice sounded timid, questioning and yet not wanting to know the answer to his question—not that Brock could answer the Pokemon even if he wished to.

"I don't know, Pikachu," Brock answered, his voice faint, or perhaps just faint sounding when all he could hear was the frantic pounding of his heart in his ear. "I can't see them."

Silence filled the clearing for a long moment, broken only by the splash of waves and the screech of wind against the crags of the mountain, as the two stared over the edge, into the abyss where their friends were certainly lost for good.

And then Lucinda, having joined them at the edge but maintaining a distance of a few feet away, began to laugh, unexpectedly, amusedly, as though someone had told a funny joke with a punchline that had taken her completely by surprise. There was no joy in her laughter, because it was fairly obvious that she was not one who could experience joy, but there was a sort of wicked amusement at the misfortune that had befallen the group that had been such a hindrance to her thus far.

"What a fool!" she crooned, placing her hands on her knees to get a better look over the edge, where there were no signs of the two fallen trainers. "I had him pegged for an idiot, but I would have thought even _he _would have more sense than that!"

Brock bit the inside of his cheek hard, his fists instinctively clenching hard at Lucinda's taunts. It would seem foolish to her…and hell, maybe it seemed foolish to Brock, as well, but he understood, and more than understanding, he didn't think it was _funny_, the fact that Ash had leapt over the edge whilst clinging to that one small hope that somehow, he would make it down there all right, and somehow, he wouldn't be too late to help Misty.

"_Good thing Samuel said those souvenirs were only 5.99…_"

Brock's fist slid into his pocket, wrapping hesitantly around the golden cylinder that had been passed to him what felt like ages ago. He hadn't understood, when Ash had pulled a similar one from his own pocket while the weight of it, the weight of what Misty had sworn was their only chance and only weapon, had been heavy in his own clothing.

But suddenly he was Brock alone, the solitary figure he had been for all this life but had forgotten how to be when he had met his friends, and suddenly he alone was expected to figure out how to use this weapon, Ash and Misty far from him. Sure, he was usually the one with the answers, usually played the role of the older, wiser one, but he usually was not expected to figure out how to save the day alone, and the pressure was crushing as the time ticked away.

"Pikapi," Pikachu pressed, tugging, frustrated, on Brock's pant leg, as though that would help, as though that would somehow help Brock think of the answer sooner.

He was beginning to wonder why he simply hadn't hurtled himself over the edge of the cliff—that maybe Ash had had the right idea.

Lucinda was still leaning over the edge, distracted, making sure that the job had been done properly and that two of the trainers who had acted as thorns in her side were, in fact, gone. It was the perfect moment to strike…and yet Brock had no idea what to do, after he had struggled with the cylinder's mystery with his friends over the course of the five days, the five days that were rapidly drawing to a close.

His hands fumbled over the intricate cylinder, twisting and tugging, all things he had tried before to no avail, but hoping against hope that maybe, somehow, the fact that their time was almost up would make what had failed work, would make him privy to something he had before missed.

"Come on, come on, come on…" Brock muttered under his breath, seeing no change to the cylinder in his hands, glancing down every so often as he kept a careful eye on Lucinda. Soon she would be bored of looking at the lapping waves, of waiting for a glimpse of Misty or Ash that she gleefully knew would not be coming. Soon she would turn around and realize that Ash had fooled her with a phony, and she would take away their last hope, the fate of the world that Brock held clutched in now-trembling hands.

He knelt down next to the small electric Pokemon at his feet. "Come on, Pikachu, did Ash say anything to you?" he pleaded quietly, aware that he had had only a small amount of time with Ash in the past five days, compared to his most loyal Pokemon. Perhaps there was something Ash forgot to mention—or knowing Ash, just plain forgot—that Pikachu was aware of. A longshot, perhaps, but it was Brock's biggest hope at the moment.

"Pikachu…" Pikachu denied, his face showing his obvious distress. He reached out for the cylinder, and as his small paw landed on the golden tube, both Pokemon and human jumped at the effect the simple touch had.

Pikachu quickly withdrew his paw when a blade sprang from one end of the cylinder—long, thin, and sharp, certainly painful looking though not particularly deadly. But a blade nonetheless—a weapon, _the _weapon, what they had been waiting for for so long, which had so suddenly appeared with the simplest of touches.

With the simplest of touches from a _Pokemon_, Brock realized with sudden clarity, looking at the golden blade in his hands. Of course it would be a Pokemon that would be the key to the weapon—in Lucinda's world, no one was able to have a Pokemon but her. What were the chances that someone would have both a Pokemon and the proper weapon? And in all their wonderings, and handlings, and passing off of the mysterious weapon between himself, Ash, and Misty, never had they handed it to Pikachu, and all along that had been the answer.

All along it had been the answer, and he had discovered it almost too late—maybe it was, in fact, too late for Brock's two friends, he couldn't help but worry forlornly as he looked at the Pokemon next to him wearing Ash's most prized possession, his Pokemon League hat.

But for them, he would make sure that when they turned up all right—because Brock had to think 'when', rather than 'if'—he had done his part to set the world right.

Brock gripped the blade, recalling Misty's story about Lucinda and the weapon that Samuel had left in her keeping, Ash's words about Samuel's warning, and Ash's worries that he would have to harm someone to set the world right again. But it was easy, at this point, for him to realize that Lucinda wasn't a some_one _but a some_thing_. Watching the destruction she had left in her wake in the last few days—his gym part of that destruction, his father only safe as he had left to report the falling, his family forced to rebuild what was part of their home—and the evils she had done to his friends and his fellow gym leaders—to Ash, and to Misty, and to of course Koga, and then Erika and Blaine—he found his grip steady and his heart resolute as he rose to his feet.

"Pikapi?" Pikachu questioned as Brock stood, the thin blade pointing towards Lucinda's turned back. It was such a thin blade that Brock had a hard time believing that this was the weapon they had fought so hard to figure out. But then again, everything they had encountered in the last few days had been beyond unbelievable, and with time running out and something finally presenting itself for his use, Brock was prepared to go on faith.

Lucinda was starting to turn, her amusement at the circumstances that had befallen Brock's friends by no means gone, but satisfied enough that she obviously no longer felt the need to watch over the edge to see if the two would appear above the surface. Her eyes, sunken in a face that was now drooped with age but no lesser in wickedness, finally pulled away from the view afforded to them of the lapping waves below, and in that moment between her looking away and her turning back to Brock, the only one of the three remaining…

His home was in shambles. His family's livelihood--his father's passion--lay in ruins. And his friends were gone, perhaps forever, perhaps the victims of the sea and of Lucinda's cruelty.

Brock would make sure if that were the case, God forbid...that they would be her last victims. Because it was the way they would want it...Ash and Misty. They would want him to act--in his place, they too would act. Because between the three of them and the things they had seen...they had learned that there was no place in their world for selfishness, and if sacrifices had to be made for the good of the world, to _save _the world...well. Then they would do what had to be done.

They had just never before had to truly made good on that word.

He acted, in a motion like lightening, his fist clutching tightly on the blade and slashing down, the power of the action coming from deep within, an action full of strength and confidence that Brock was surprised to be feeling.

His hand flashed downward, and Lucinda's head snapped back in shock, and suddenly, Brock's world erupted into a bright flash of dazzling light.

* * *

As soon as his feet left the very solid, and therefore relatively safe, edge of the cliff, leading him to freefall the distance to the water's surface, the wind rushing past him with a defiant roar and slicing his face, Ash realized what a terrible, terrible idea jumping had been.

He was never one to think things through.

His body cut through the lapping waves, and the brittle cold was like a dagger to his chest, shocking enough that he instinctively opened his mouth to gasp in surprise, sending a torrent of salt water rushing in, gagging him.

Viciously, Ash pumped his legs, slowed by the weight of his clothes, and it seemed to be an eternity before his head burst through the surface and he could finally cough, hacking up the sea water that had made its way into his mouth.

"Mis--!" Her name was swallowed by the sea when a wave rolled over Ash's head, and he sputtered, blinking the salt water from his eyes. He tried, desperately, while turning in a sloppy circle, to see through the dark water that reflected the night sky, but he couldn't even see his own feet below the murky surface, much less Misty, who could, he realized with rising panic, be anywhere at this point, depending on how strong the current was.

He wasn't the strong swimmer of their group, and so he paddled his limbs viciously trying to stay afloat. His legs moved heavily, due to his jeans and sneakers being soaked through, weighing him down. His trying to save one of the Sensational Sisters of the Cerulean Gym—known, of course, for their prowess in the water…well, it was laughable.

Panic rose from the pit of his stomach up to his throat. He had been so certain when he had addressed Lucinda, so certain when he had taken that frightening last step off of the edge of the cliff, letting himself fall into the abyss. And now he was faced with the looming question _What now? What do I do now??_

Blindly, he reached for his belt, fumbling through the water as the waves lifted and dipped him, some splashing over his head. Clearly, with water being far from his speciality, he needed a bit of help if he was going to find Misty before it was too late.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably, in actuality, a matter of moments, he found what he was looking for. "Squirtle, I choose you!"

Even just seeing his trusted Pokemon appear in the water next to him helped to ease Ash's mind—just having company in this dark storm, a trusted companion to hep him, was a relief.

"Squir—" the water ran into his mouth again, and he spat it out in disgust, the salt of the ocean irritating his tongue and stinging his throat. "Squirtle, help me find Misty!"

"Squirtle, Squirt!" His Pokemon nodded solemnly, and Ash wrapped an arm around the midsection of the turtle, feeling the curve of its shell against his stomach. Squirtle glanced over its shoulder, checking to make sure that its trainer was properly attached, and then dove below the cold rolling waves, giving Ash only a brief moment to catch his breath before he, too, was plunged beneath the water.

The salt stung his eyes violently for the brief moment he tried to open them, and so he had to resort to slamming them shut against the burn and laying his trust fully in his Pokemon—something he was used to doing, and yet somehow it was different when it wasn't his own life on the line but rather that of his best friend. It meant more, somehow, and he wished feverishly that he wasn't the one trying to do the saving…somehow it was always easier when he was the one in trouble and had to rely on the luck of his strength and smarts of his friends and Pokemon.

He figured even if they failed, at least he wouldn't know…right? He didn't know what death would feel like, but he was certain that it would be less painful than losing someone he cared for due to his own failings, and as the moments ticked by and he felt Squirtle make one sharp turn followed by another while he held on for dear life, he grew more and more anxious that maybe he would, in fact, have to experience that pain.

He felt Squirtle dip down lower in the water and his heart began thudding in his ears. His lungs were aching, desperate for breath, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on before surfacing for a breath.

And there was that determination in his heart that he would rather drown than simply leave without finding Misty…but he couldn't fight his baser instincts, which were beginning to release the back of his Pokemon, as to float to the surface for air and therefore relieve the terrible aching pressure in his chest.

But just before he could release Squirtle, the Pokemon stopped its travels through the water and hovered. Ash felt his hand bump against something soft, and, instinctively, trusting Squirtle, he grasped what he assumed to be Misty tightly somewhere around the middle, unable to pinpoint the best location as he could not bear to open his eyes against the stinging salt water.

And so he couldn't be completely sure that it was Misty in his arms until his head broke back through the surface, and he gasped for air, able to open his eyes again and blink away the salt. But even in the dark churning waters, that bright red hair was unmistakable, and he struggled to pull her head above the water while maintaining his grip on Squirtle and keeping himself afloat.

"Misty?" he called to her over the sloshing of the waves and the swoop of the wind. "Misty, can you hear me?"

But if she could, she didn't respond, and Ash pulled her up against his body until her head lolled away from the water and back against his shoulder, limp and scarily silent, but at least for the moment out of immediate danger while he tried to think of what the hell to do next.

It was a nearly impossible task, trying to cling to Squirtle's back with his left hand while using all his strength to hold Misty tight with his right arm against the swelling waves that tried their best to separate the three. And poor Squirtle, with the additional weight of another person, could no longer paddle his trainer back to the safety of the shore.

"Misty, wake up!" he yelled over the pounding of the water. "I need you to help me swim!" The redheaded girl in his arms, however, didn't reply to his cry, remaining instead silent and startlingly pale. He was recalled of all the times he had so feverishly wished that Misty would stop her teasing and taunting, her yelling or demands—at those times he would have given anything for a roll of masking tape to wrap around her mouth for a moment's peace. But now at the reality of a silent Misty, he would give anything to hear her voice, no matter what she was saying (or, more likely, yelling) to him. Anything to know that she was all right, that she was awake, and that his split-second decision hadn't been in vain.

He kicked viciously as the current tried to drag him under, his breath growing labored from the effort of keeping them afloat while clinging to Squirtle's back, and he tried to ignore the trickling sense of dread that grew and preyed on him like a parasite.

Ash had, he could admit, not always shown the highest of regard for his safety and had faced what might seem like more than his fair share of near death experiences. And yet he had always had a feeling of inner peace and certainty that everything would work out; and if it didn't, well, it was all for the greater good. He had always, by this point, discovered the answer and known what had to be done to set the world right again, even if he didn't always like the answers that waited for him. But here—here he was clueless, literally being tossed about in a sea of blackness while his last moments of time to fix everything slipped away. Perhaps that was the worst part—knowing that if he did die right here, right now, it wouldn't make a difference.

No, the worst part was that Misty was with him right now, silent and ghostly pale, her skin an illumination against the inky-black water. And Samuel's warning about Lucinda's love of irony in the deaths of her victims rang in his head. And Ash had done—and was doing—such an awful job at playing savior, when Misty had done such a good job of it when it had been her responsibility. How had she done it, pulled him to shore after he had fallen with Lugia from the sky? His only recollection after hitting the water was waking up on shore, cold and wet and _alive_, and seeing big blue-green eyes watching him fearfully from where Misty sat next to him, water dripping from her clothes and her breath coming out in frosty clouds as she panted from exhaustion.

And now here he was, being pulled further and further from shore by the pull of the tide, and dragging her with him.

He was reminded, suddenly, of the last time he had had to fight the current so much with someone else depending on him—the time he met Misty, where he had had Pikachu wrapped up in his arms, years ago. And she had saved him even then, however accidently it may have been. He could always count on her—she had always been there, taunting, teasing, goading while all along helping, teaching, watching, encouraging, _caring_. She was the single most infuriating person he'd ever met in his life—and yes, that included Gary Oak—and no one got under his skin or pissed him off more.

And yet no one's approval mattered more, no one's smile made his stomach twist in knots the way that Misty's did. There was no one he had more fun with, or laughed harder with, or…

No one made him feel the way that Misty did.

And he wasn't sure exactly what that feeling was, but he knew that he didn't want to let it go.

"God, Misty, please, please don't die…" he begged blindly, prepared to offer anything and everything to the redhead as way of bargaining, as though this were her choice, as though he could change her mind.

His eyes stung violently, and he blinked rapidly, unsure whether they stung from salt water or tears, or some painful combination of the two. Somehow saying the word out loud, begging her not to _die_, had made the fear more real than it ever could be when it was merely a phantom in his mind. That he could lose her like this—that he could lose her at all—was a terrifying thought that threw his whole future into question. Because she was always there in the picture he saw in his head, at every point, their lives forever intertwined. He wasn't sure, anymore, how to be Ash without Misty in his life, and furthermore, he didn't want to be that Ash. He could he go on and live a life without the girl who had become his best friend, his mentor, his confidante, his partner? She was so involved in every aspect of his life that sometimes he forgot where Ash ended and Misty began, where the part of him that was his stopped and the part of him that belonged to her started. How then, could he go on without her?

_You probably won't have to…_a taunting voice in his head said. _You'll probably die, too_. And rather than horrifying, the thought was almost, somehow…comforting. It was almost calming to know that either way, he probably wouldn't have to reinvent himself, and that as in everything else they had faced, they were in this together.

His legs were starting to tire from his frantic kicking, and his arm ached from holding Misty tight and keeping her head above water. Ash could feel his body starting to fail him, and of all the times things had not gone according to plan, he felt that this would be his ultimate failure. He would never see his mother, or Pikachu, or Brock or any of his Pokemon again. All the friends he had promised he would meet again, he would be forever lost to. His dream would just be another one unfulfilled, another one that died with the dreamer. And he would be letting Misty down, unable to do for her what she had done for him, unable to help, unable to save them, simply…unable.

_At least I did all I could…_he thought miserably to himself. _At least I tried, and at least I gave her a better chance than she would have had alone, if I had stayed on the cliff_. 'At least' would have to be enough for him, the minimum would have to suit them both as Ash closed his eyes, exhausted, but his never loosened his grip of Misty, their cheeks pressed together, her head resting limply against his and her loose, damp tendrils of hair tinkling his face.

"I'm sorry…" he told her, his voice full of sorrow, and with the weight of one far beyond his years. "I'm so sorry…"

The waves no longer seemed intimidating or thrashing to the weary Pokemon trainer, but warmer, more lolling and inviting, and it was so easy to just close his eyes and let them do what they wanted. There was a peace, letting the water take control, and finally, finally, after days of worrying and searching and battling, to finally stop _fighting_ and give in to the dark around him.

'_Ash…_'

The voice sounded familiar to him, as his mind drifted away from the cold waters, but Ash couldn't place it. It wasn't Misty, still quiet and unmoving in his arms, her fight long ago left. No, it was deeper, lower, and from further away…

'…_Dad…?'_

"Ash! Hey, Ash!"

No, it wasn't his father, calling him onward, and, with his last bit of energy, Ash forced his eyes back open as he tried to place that familiar voice, calling to him, yelling to be heard over the distance and over a roaring sound of an engine.

An _engine_.

With this realization, Ash felt a sudden flood of adrenaline hit his body, and it was easy to lift his head from the water and twist his head from side to side, until he saw the boat cruising easily over the waves towards him, cutting the water as though it were soft butter and the bow was the knife, and there, at the side, waving his arms frantically, was a figure Ash knew well.

"_Tracey_!" he yelled back, not caring as water rushed into his mouth, gagging him. He coughed and sputtered, his arms tightening around Misty and around Squirtle with renewed vigor as he craned his neck as far as it could go above the surface of the water as the boat cruised towards him, seeming to move in slow motion.

But then it was _there_, and Tracey was reaching his hands over the edge, along with—uh-oh—Officer Jenny, but at that moment Ash didn't care _what _kind of trouble he was in, as long as he would be alive to see that trouble.

He hoisted Misty as best he could up towards the hands reaching down towards them, and she was the first to be pulled up onto the boat, water dripping from her hair and from the Pokemon League jacket that Ash had given her what seemed to be an eternity ago.

Officer Jenny and Tracey each reached down to pull the redhead over the side of the boat, and her back slammed rather nastily on the edge, causing her to cough violently and water to gush from her mouth and nose. And to be honest, the sound of her coughing was the most beautiful, most wonderful, most _alive _sound that Ash had ever heard.

He swallowed hard against the sudden rush of emotion that pressed against his throat—did people cry in relief?—clinging to the side of the boat with his now-free hand while he waited for his turn to be pulled aboard, straining to hear for the sound of Misty's coughing up the seawater.

Suddenly recalling, he fumbled for his Pokeball. "Squirtle…" he laughed a bit, "I can't thank you enough, buddy. You saved the day." He held out the Pokeball so that Squirtle could return in a stream of red light. "And you earned a nice, long rest."

Tracey's hand appeared over the edge of the railing; his face appeared next, leaning downwards towards Ash, smiling knowingly, winningly, with relief, and Ash felt a burble of laughter well up in his chest as he reached for his friend's hand. In that moment, he didn't care about Lucinda or about what came next—all that mattered was that they were _alive_, and they were _safe_, even if they were only alive and safe to fight one more battle. For now, all Ash needed was that reassurance of having a second chance, of having another moment, another battle, another try. He braced his feet against the side of the boat, using the traction as well as Tracey's help to pull himself over the side, landing on the hard, blissfully solid, wooden deck.

Taking hardly a moment to regain his breath, he hurried over to Misty's side, where she was sprawled on her back across the deck, Officer Jenny supporting her head and shoulders so that she didn't choke on the water that was still coming out in small spurts from her nose and mouth, every so often punctuating the end of a series of nasty coughs.

He fell to his knees next to her as Tracey knelt down on her other side, and together, the two of them pulled her into a sitting position, her back supported by each of their arms.

"How did you find us?" Ash asked wonderingly of Tracey, though his eyes remained on Misty as she coughed, her eyes still closed but her face now flushed with color when it had been, before, pale as the moon in the never-ending night.

"Well," Officer Jenny cut in before Tracey could respond, "it _might _have something to do with that boat that you stole!"

Ash cringed; the boat that Gary had goaded him into taking but a dim memory in light of everything else that had happened to them since then. "Oh. Right. About that…"

"Luckily, the man who's boat you _stole _has decided to not press charges as long as the boat is returned to him," Officer Jenny said with a note of disdain in her voice, as though she did not care much for the sailor's decision.

Well, if she was hoping to pin something on him, it was her lucky day, Ash realized grimly, remembering the mysterious blast that had sent Gary and him flying into the ocean, leaving them stranded and leading to them being separated. "Well…the thing is…" he started reluctantly, still holding Misty's back, "Lucinda ruined the boat."

Officer Jenny wrinkled her brow, obviously confused and perhaps unimpressed. "Lucinda? Who's Lucinda?"

Ash laughed dryly, humorlessly. "That's a long story." He lifted his head suddenly. "But how did you find me? The boat was destroyed quite some time ago…and in the middle of the ocean, not by the island…"

"It was Gary, Ash," Tracey explained, and Ash immediately perked up to hear that Gary, somehow, Gary had made it back to Pallet Town and somehow he owed it to _Gary _that he was sitting on the deck of this boat right now and not sinking, helplessly, to the bottom of the sea. "He showed up to the lab awhile ago and told us that the two of you had stolen the boat to get to some island, to rescue Misty and Brock. He said it was tied to the Pokemon acting so strangely, and tied to the fact that the sun wasn't shining anymore, and that all you talked about was some island that you had to get to past Seafoam, and that you needed our help. And, well, here's the island, and here you are, and boy, was he right!"

Ash shook his head ruefully. "I guess after this, I have a lot to thank Gary Oak for." It was nice, thinking of 'after', the freedom to assume that there would be an after.

Officer Jenny frowned, crossing her arms. "And a lot of explaining to do about what, exactly, happened to that boat you stole!"

"Ash?"

The fear of the law flew from him when Misty finally spoke, her voice weak and raw sounding from the copious amounts of water she had swallowed, but _speaking _nonetheless. "Misty! You're awake!" he exclaimed, looking down at the girl in his arms, who was squinting in the bright light.

The bright light…

"Ash…" she repeated weakly. "The sun…"

He turned his face up towards it, the sun, feeling the light and the warmth of it and not minding in the slightest that he had to close his eyes against the bright glare, and relishing in the fact that he could still see the brightness behind his closed eyelids. In his moment of being saved and pulled from the ocean, he hadn't dared to dream that he would see the sun.

"Brock must have figured it out, Misty," he exclaimed, unable to keep the note of joy out of his voice despite the still relative uncertainty of the situation. How uncertain could he be, when the sun was gleaming in the sky like a long-lost friend? Five days…nearly five days, and that had been all it had taken to nearly forget how much he valued the daylight. "Brock must have figured out what to do…"

"Oh…" she responded, still obviously dazed, still obviously drenched, and when Ash looked back down at her he was ready to blame the tearing of his eyes on the fact that they had gone so long without exposure to sunlight. She studied him, curiously, with confusion, water dripping from his black t-shirt and his black hair to slide across the deck floor. "Why are you all wet? Did you do something stupid?"

He laughed out loud at that, such a _Misty _question, and then, to her obvious surprise, threw his arms around her, pulling her tight to him in an embrace.

"Nah," he said, fighting hard to keep the obvious emotion out of his voice as he raised his eyes to the horizon, as the boat sped towards the island that he was sure he would see in his nightmares in the future, but that suddenly didn't seem so intimidating. Where his friends waited, and Pikachu, and Brock, Brock who had figured _something _out when the rest of them had failed.

"You'd be proud, Misty. I actually did something right."

* * *

All right, so ONE. MORE. CHAPTER! I promise not to take six months with this one. Haha

So! What exactly happened? Loose ends will be tied up in the final chapter!

Again, really, I'm sorry for the long wait. I suppose with such a long piece, I just needed an extended break.

Please review! I appreciate everyone who has reviewed so far! Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed!


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: So here it is, finally, finally, finally: the last chapter of Five Days of Midnight.

My apologies for the very long delay. Yes, I know that I lied about how long it would take. In addition to being very busy, to be honest, I sort of lost interest in the fandom. Therefore, it was very hard to sit down and write for extended periods of time. And then as more time passed, it was harder to write because it HAD been such a long time—I had to go back and read some other chapters to remember how I wanted to tie up some of the ends. I'm sure my interest will return at some point—it tends to ebb and flow—but it did make completing this fic very difficult. Nevertheless, I knew I'd finish it at some point, as promised. I hope you enjoy! (If it helps make up for it, it's a long one!)

DISCLAIMER: Pokemon and its characters and concepts do not belong to me. No profit is being made from this work.

* * *

**Five Days of Midnight**

**Chapter 18**

It was almost as though nothing had ever happened.

In fact, if Pikachu had been there, and if they hadn't been shivering from the cold water and from nerves, Ash could have almost sworn that it _had _never been. After all, how often had he sailed across the sea with Tracy and Misty at his side, his eye on the horizon and on adventure? And now here they were, back to what they knew.

And yet, he realized, stealing a glance at Misty as she, too, gazed off into the horizon, it had happened and everything was a bit different now.

The boat roared back towards the shoreline, bobbing over the crests of the waves that had once seemed so dark and foreboding, and now seemed to be so blue and harmless, especially compared to the sleek power of the small ship. And that ship seemed especially powerful, Ash thought, compared to the power of two teenagers lost at sea.

His crime had been seemingly put aside for a moment, and Officer Jenny had fetched them each a fleece blanket to wrap around their shivering bodies. Ash and Misty sat there, huddled together like beggars, water still dripping from their hair and clothes and pooling on the deck as they headed back towards the small island.

Every so often, Ash would again glance over at Misty, as though checking to make sure she was still there, still breathing, still living. And she was, though her eyes were still clouded with confusion as she tried to process how she had gotten from the inside of an ice cavern to the sturdy deck of the boat heading for shore.

Hesitantly, he reached a hand out to rest on her shoulder and felt her jump a bit under his touch. "Hey," he said softly, "are you okay?"

Her eyes were shadowed with fatigue when she looked over at him, exhaustion starting to creep up on her just as the sun rose again. The night was over, but Ash and Misty had found no rest. She gave him a weary sort of half-smile, cautious in her own optimism. "Do you think it's over?" she said, her voice low as though she were confiding a secret in him.

The corners of his own mouth quirked up, and he squeezed her shoulder lightly, familiarly. "I hope so," he answered honestly, and he looked up at the horizon at the island they had worked so furiously to escape, the one that they were now willingly approaching without really knowing what they would face when they landed on the shores once more. Blind faith, he realized—much the same as the kind he had held when he had first convinced Gary that he needed a boat because he needed to save his friends.

In the daylight, the tower of ice was no longer foreboding but a strange sight of beauty, the sun reflecting off the smooth surface and the sculpture twinkling a welcome to them. Ash could hear Office Jenny snatch a breath at the sight, and he wondered, with a hint of smugness, how much of Gary's story Officer Jenny had written off as the exaggeration of two teenagers in trouble. But any smugness he felt faded rapidly as he remembered his own insistence that he didn't want to hear, didn't want to know, didn't want to be involved, when Misty had tried to tell him the story that Samuel had given her.

_Maybe if I had listened, things would have been different…_

Maybe they would have been able to stop Lucinda the first night of midnight, when she had appeared as such a small, innocent child. Maybe Misty and Brock would have never been taken, and maybe then, Koga would still be alive and Misty wouldn't be trembling in the cold sea air next to him.

He licked his dry lips nervously, aware that Misty could hold this over his head for years to come. "Misty…I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before," he said with slight reluctance in his voice—Ash had never been good with apologies. She had smugly reminded him of what she had known, what she had been trying to tell him, back when he had first pulled her from the icy waters…when he had made the choice to save her first, when he had been forced to leave the rest behind. But he, ever stubborn, had refused to offer an apology or even an acknowledgement, but now…now felt like the time to do so.

She looked up, her blue-green eyes so different from Lucinda's dark, cold eyes, and then she gave him a crack of a smile, as though she knew and appreciated the effort it took for him to admit that he had made a mistake and that she had been right. "Well, I'm sorry I ruined your jacket," she said lightly, holding up her arms so that water could drip freely from the sleeves of his familiar jacket.

Relieved that she didn't seem to be angry with him—a fight with Misty was just about the last thing in the world he wanted at the moment—he laughed, and reached for her shoulders to help her remove the jacket. It was heavy with salt and sea, but he had a hunch that it wasn't beyond repair—he had seen his mother work more than one miracle when it came to his clothing. "Well, when I lent it to you I didn't know you would be going for a swim," he said lightly. He spoke lightly to distract himself from the feel of her cool, smooth skin under his hands, almost a foreign substance to him, as though he had never touched Misty before and didn't know what to expect. And well, maybe after this, he didn't know what to expect anymore.

"You saved my life," she said quietly, and she seemed to not be able to quite meet his eye. "Twice," she added, recalling how he had pulled her onto Charizard's back from the raging storm, flying in on fiery wings like the hero he always ended up playing despite his trepidation.

Funny how she had thought, in that time that seemed so long ago, that Ash wasn't the traditional hero and she wasn't the traditional damsel, and yet here they were.

He studied her for a long moment, a myriad of replies on his tongue and yet none of them seemed quite right. _You would have done the same_ or _you did do the same for me_ made it seem like repayment, _What else could I have done _sounded like he was resigned…and _I would do it again _was too close to the truth to pass comfortably between them.

So he grinned. "Tell me I'm the greatest Pokemon trainer who ever lived," he goaded, wondering how the words would sound on her lips.

She quirked an eyebrow. "You must think I swallowed a whole lot of seawater if you think I'm going to say _that_, Ketchum," she shot back, elbowing him in the side through the thick material of the blankets that separated them. Then her eyes widened as a thought struck her. "Ash, the Pokemon! My Pokemon! And…and Brock's, and my sisters', and the rest…" her brow creased with worry. "What's going to happen to them?" Her eyes left his face, and gazed towards the island they were quickly approaching.

He studied the worn knees of his old blue jeans for a long moment, again turning over possible responses in his head. It seemed, at this vital times in his life, that he always either opened his mouth and from somewhere deep within drew words of inspiration and eloquence, or, much more frequently, he opened his mouth and promptly stuck his foot in it. "Let's hope that the sun isn't the only thing that's back," he finally answered, a gloved hand coming up to pick at the fray on his jeans. There would be a hole there, soon—something else for his mother to fix.

The boat gave a lurch as it ran ground on the island, and Ash felt his own legs ache in protest as he watched the crewmen jump nimbly to the ground to pull and anchor the boat into place on the cool sandy shores.

He clambered rather ungainly to his feet, wincing as he stretched muscles that had been abused over the last few days. He clutched the blanket around his still-wet form with one hand and extended the other to Misty, offering her help to her feet in the likely case that she was in as much pain as he was.

She looked at his hand for a brief moment before grasping it firmly with her own. "Hey, Ash?" she asked quickly, as he pulled her up with a grunt of effort.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," she said, quietly and meaningfully, her eyes wide when they settled on his own. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth briefly, unsure if 'thanks' was an adequate reaction to being saved, if 'thanks' could really express the feelings churning inside her and turning her stomach upside down and inside out. 'Thanks' seemed far too simple, 'thanks' was too easy of a label for how she felt at the moment, but 'thanks' was a start.

His hand gripped hers tighter for a moment, and she was reminded of how it had felt when so long ago, before this trouble had ever really started, he had slipped his hand into hers and she had immediately felt better. Somehow, he promised things with the touch of his hand and the honesty in his eyes.

How very cliché, she scoffed to herself, but she could not bring herself to pull her hand away from his reassuring grasp.

And besides, it was _Ash_ that she was having these thoughts and feelings about. Sometimes it was hard to reconcile the extraordinary person he continuously proved to be when faced with unbearable odds and the dumb kid who was also her best friend.

Two sides of the coin.

He kept his hand in hers, and he looked uncertain, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked like he wanted to say something. "Misty…"

"Misty!"

Her thoughts were broken at the new cry, and her eyes shot up to see her sisters rushing along the beach, their movements as synchronized as any of their dances, their beautiful, full hair that seemed to not have suffered the ill will of the last few days (or nights, really) flying like streamers behind them.

And suddenly she felt her heart tightening at the sight of them, her lip trembling with suppressed emotion at the sight of her sisters, her vapid, foolish, dainty, wonderful sisters. Her _family_. Her family, their faces blurred by the tears that had suddenly sprung to her eyes as they hurried towards her, because she was their _sister_, no matter how much they may pick on her as the littlest, the least Sensational of the Sisters.

Her hand left Ash's, and one of the crew members helped her over the edge of the boat onto the soft sand below her, Officer Jenny's blanket still wrapped around her now-bare shoulders. Her sneakers squished, full of salt water, as she stumbled across the small stretch of beach remaining between her and her three sisters.

She was swallowed by a gaggle of arms, her cheek coming to rest on Daisy's shoulder while hair of a multitude of colors tickled her face. Suddenly she felt safe, and she felt appreciated, and to be honest those were not emotions she often associated with her well-meaning but clueless older sisters.

"We're, like, so glad you're okay!" Violet cried, her arms looped around Misty's waist from behind. "We were so worried about you!"

"Yeah, you gave us all a scare!" Daisy scolded.

"You should have _told _us if you were going to go swimming!" Lily piped up, and Misty was quite impressed that she was able to hold in her groan of disbelief.

"Sorry," she said, her voice muffled against Daisy's shoulder. "I'm sorry you guys were worried."

Ash, having started to hoist himself over the edge of the boat as well, suddenly found his feet leaving the ground as he was gripped firmly around the middle as though he weighed nothing more than Pikachu.

"Good man," Lt. Surge thundered once he had set Ash on his feet, and he clapped him so hard on the back that Ash's knees gave out under him, and he fell onto all fours on the gritty sand with a grunt of surprise. "Good job!"

_Good man_, Misty pondered briefly, lifting her head to peek over Daisy's shoulders at Ash, trying to pinpoint when the stupid boy who had stolen and ruined her bike had started to grow into a _man_, and a considerate, and brave, and kind one, at that. When had he started growing up? When had _she _started growing up?

"Toge, Toge!"

Misty sucked in her breath hard at the familiar cry, her heart giving an almost palpable ache as she twisted her head once more to locate the sound, coming from the tower of ice glistening in the sunlight. "Togepi!" she exclaimed, and she felt tears sting at the corners of her eyes once more as she withdrew from her sister's embrace, hurrying on still not-completely steady legs towards the sound, towards where her little Pokemon had appeared in the wide doorway to the cavern, looking, as it always seemed to in situations of danger, none the worse for the wear.

Togepi trilled joyfully as Misty scooped it up into her embrace, her arms cuddling the Pokemon close under her chin. "Oh, Togepi, I was so worried about you!" she exclaimed with a quaver to her voice. "I'm so glad you're safe!"

"They're all back," a familiar voice declared proudly, and Misty looked up to see Brock standing in the opening now, a broad smile at his face and his Pokeballs returned to his belt, with Misty's remaining Pokemon at his feet.

"Brock!" she exclaimed this time, hurrying over to her friend and her Pokemon, Togepi still clutched protectively in her grasp. She knelt down on the cool, damp sand, elated to be reunited with her Pokemon when her deepest fear was that they would be lost forever. Being without them the last few days had been like being without a part of herself—it felt as wrong as if Lucinda had taken one of her arms or legs, when she had taken her Pokemon from her.

She flung herself at Brock, her arms useless as she kept them wrapped tight around Togepi, causing her body to knock into his as he laughed and wrapped an arm around her back for support.

"I'm glad to see you," he said, his voice surprisingly thick. "I wasn't sure if I ever would again."

"I know," she replied softly, shivering slightly in her damp clothes as she realized, anew, just how much danger she had been in, how close she had come to not making it back to see the sunshine. How much, really, she had to thank Ash for.

She knelt down on the sand, her arms reaching for her Pokemon. "And I'm so glad to see all of _you_," she exclaimed, her voice catching a bit. "Even you, Psyduck," she added with the typical annoyed affection she felt for her strange Psychic-Water duck.

"Psy?"

"Pikapi!" Misty looked up as Pikachu, having enthusiastically greeted Ash, now bounded over towards her, hopping familiarly into her lap and beaming up at her, pleased.

"Oh, Pikachu!" She wrapped her arms around the Pokemon. "And of course I missed you, too!" As she released the electric mouse, she touched the cap still adorning his head with careful fingers, surprised to see it there. Carefully, she lifted it off, turning the familiar garment over in her hands.

"Well, I didn't want to lose it." Misty looked up at Ash's sheepish face, where he was standing a few feet away, digging a damp shoe into the rapidly warming sand.

Slowly, she rose to her feet, heading back over to him. Her eyes stung, and they had been out of the water far too long for her to blame it on the salt. It was overwhelming, really, to stand there with him and know that he saved her life, and yet he was still the same old Ash that she had always known, the one who was her biggest headache but absolutely her best friend.

She held out the hat to him, and he gave her a lopsided smile as he accepted it back from her. "Thanks," he said, and he glanced down as his gloved fingers briefly brushed over her cool fingers. Then he jammed the hat back onto his wild black hair, and his smile grew into a grin. "I mean, me and this hat have a long history together."

_We have a long history together_.

"Yeah," she said softly. "You've been through a lot, you and that hat."

He swallowed, the irony of her statement not lost on him—surprising, really, since a lot was often lost on Ash. "Yeah. We have."

Awkward and unsure, he shifted his gaze to Brock. "What happened, Brock? How did you figure it out?"

Brock smiled, perhaps a bit knowingly, before answering Ash's question. "I wish I could take all the credit, but really, it was Pikachu who figured it out."

He blinked and glanced down at his most trusted companion with a look of surprise on his face. "Pikachu?"

"Chaaaa," Pikachu confirmed, looking rather proud of himself.

"I gave him the weapon," Brock explained, "and as soon as it was in his hands, it opened up into a sort of sword. It makes sense, doesn't it?" he mused. "After all, when Lucinda was at her most powerful, she took all the Pokemon away from their trainers. It makes sense that to defeat her, you would need the help of a Pokemon."

Ash furrowed his brow. "I guess I didn't think about it that way." He laughed ruefully. "Well, obviously I didn't think about it that way, or else we would have figured it out a lot sooner."

"Well, we figured it out in time," Brock replied, and then he exhaled hard. "We really got lucky this time, though."

"Yeah," Ash answered lowly, and a shiver ran down his spine at the thought of just how close, really, they had come. He met Brock's eye. "What happened to her?"

Brock hesitated. "Come on. I'll show you."

Misty and Ash exchanged a bewildered look at that—they weren't sure they wanted to see whatever it was Brock had to show them, really. But with a shared shrug, they fell into line behind their friend and headed back towards the ice tower that had once towered so forebodingly over them.

Instinctively, Ash reached out to touch the doorway, and was surprised when his glove came back damp. "It's melting," he said wonderingly, touching the ice again. No longer was it composed of that strange glass-like ice, cold but unable to be penetrated. Now it was normal, of their world again rather than the supernatural world that Lucinda had created.

Misty's eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed almost lazily down the wall. "I guess it's really over, then."

Brock reached over, squeezing her shoulder briefly before indicating his head towards the ice staircase, which Ash at least regarded with much more caution now that he knew it was damp. "Come on," he suggested, and the three moved carefully and slowly up the stairs for what they hoped to be the very last time.

At the top of the tower, at the clearing Ash was sure he would see in his nightmares for years to come, he recoiled at what he found there, and Misty clamped a hand over her mouth in shock.

There was Lucinda, or rather what had once been Lucinda. Now she was carved from the same ice as the tower, forever frozen as a statue of misery. It was as though someone had made an incredibly detailed model or mold of her, and left it as a tribute.

Very cautiously, Ash approached and touched the frozen Lucinda gingerly. The statue was smooth and glass-like, much the way the ice tower had been before the spell had been broken and Lucinda had been defeated. Lucinda had been defeated, but the magic could not be completely sucked out of her, and so here she would remain, perfectly preserved, her face twisted into an angry, bitter scowl.

And again, Ash almost felt a swell of pity for her, deep down underneath his anger and resentment. Because it was true, what he had said—she had never had a single friend in her life, never had seen the value of a friendship, and for that, he felt sorry for her.

He reclaimed his hand and glanced over at his friends, at Misty and Brock and Pikachu, and the pity in his stomach was replaced by gratitude. Lucinda had chosen her path, and Ash had chosen his, and he was certain he would be proven right in the end. And even if Lucinda was right, and he never became a Pokemon Master, at least he wouldn't be alone. At least he would always have the people—and Pokemon—that mattered most to him.

For now, however, he grimaced as he walked away from the statue of Lucinda. "Come on," he called over his shoulder as he started to head back down the staircase. "The ship's waiting to take us back, and I apparently have a lot of explaining to do about a certain boat that Gary and I, um, borrowed…"

* * *

When Ash woke up the next morning, it was to a world of darkness within his bedroom.

His eyes shot to the clock next to his bed, long replaced since that fateful day he had awoken too late to receive a standard starting Pokemon and his life had been forever altered. He panicked to see that it was ten past eleven in the morning. Something must have gone wrong somehow…somehow, Lucinda's curse hadn't truly been broken…

He leapt out of bed, running before his feet had even fully hit the ground, tripping over his backpack on the floor and stumbling to the window…

…only to find that his mother had merely drawn the curtains.

Not immediately content with this explanation, Ash threw open the blinds, and blinked in the blinding sunshine that poured into the room. It had just been his mother after all, no doubt assuming he would want to rest after the days just past. Sheepishly, Ash glanced around the now-bright room, glad that no one was there to witness is mistake.

And there was no one there—even Pikachu was gone by now. Curiously, Ash pulled on a pair of clean jeans (ones without holes, unlike the pair his mother had deemed unsalvageable) and a pair of socks before paddling out into the hallway.

In the dining room, Pikachu and Togepi were sitting on the table, enjoying stacks of maple syrup drenched pancakes. They didn't even look up as Ash entered the room, too busy exhaling small sighs of delight as they enjoyed their feast. Ash's mom always was the only one who could beat Brock in the kitchen.

Brock, however, was nowhere to be seen; neither was Misty, for that matter. For a moment, Ash wondered if it had all been a strange dream. But no, the stiffness and soreness of his body stood as a testament.

"Good morning!" his mother chirped, coming in from the kitchen with a jug of orange juice and a plate of fresh pancakes that he assumed was for him, despite the greedy look the two Pokemon were giving the latest batch. Sure enough, she gave the two a warning look before setting the plate down in front of his normal seat. "How are you feeling, honey?"

"Fine, Mom, thanks," he replied, ignore the aches and pains that said otherwise as he cautiously sat down. His mother seemed to notice his slow, stiff movements, and she frowned in her anxiety. "Really," he added quickly before she could protest, "I'm just tired. I'll be fine by tomorrow."

"Maybe I should get you an appointment with the doctor," she fretted, and Ash rolled his eyes.

"I'm _fine_," he insisted again. He looked around. "Where are Misty and Brock?" he asked, eager to change the subject but also genuinely wondering about his friends' whereabouts.

"Eat," his mother insisted, pushing the plate of pancakes closer to him, and, well, he certainly didn't have to be told again, though he raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for her answer. "Brock is down at the lab with Professor Oak and Tracy. They're examining that…thing, that Brock used," she looked a little uncomfortable, unwilling to identify the weapon. "And Misty said she wanted to go for a walk. I think just along the river. I told her not to wander too far."

"Oh," he replied, mouth full of pancake. Instinctively he began shoveling it in faster, both wanting to finish as quickly as possible and enjoying the rich flavor. "Mmm. This is good, Mom," he complimented around the food in his mouth, cramming as much in as he could, as though he hadn't eaten in weeks.

He made quick work of the plate of pancakes, and stood up, the chair legs squeaking as he pushed away from the table. "I'm going to go see if I can find Misty," he said, trying hard to keep his voice casual. He looked anxiously over at his mom, who was busy doling out more pancakes to the two Pokemon on the table, wondering if she could read his mind the way she seemed to be able to when he was little.

He seemed to catch a lucky break that day, however, as she didn't even glance up. "All right, dear," she replied cheerfully. "Be careful," she added as a warning, and Ash knew that it was the events of the last five days that made her worry—after all, he was about to take a stroll through Pallet Town on a warm, sunny day…he didn't have much to 'be careful' about.

"Right," he agreed, regardless, hurrying to grab his sneakers from his bedroom. "Coming, Pikachu?" he asked, casually, but his trusted Pokemon only gave him an incredulous look over the stack of food in front of him. "Right, I'll take that as a 'no,'" he chuckled, grabbing his hat off the hook near the door and jamming it over his uncombed hair.

After leaving, he wandered to the edge of town, towards Viridian, following the water's edge, remembering how it felt to leave home for the first time with a reluctant Pokemon in tow. So much had changed since the day years ago; sometimes it was hard to believe that he was the same person. And that day had changed everything in his life…

It wasn't too far along the way that he saw her; obviously she had heeded his mother's wishes that she didn't wander too far. She sat along the water's edge, her head tilted back in the sun and her feet dabbling in the river, and she looked…she looked pretty, he admitted to himself, pretending that that thought didn't scare him senseless, the idea of Misty looking pretty. And without trying, without dolling herself up, just by…being Misty. Just by being there. Just by being herself.

"Hey," he called softly, not wanting to startle her, and she opened her eyes and glanced over at him, a smile playing over her lips.

"Hey," she responded, and they looked at each other in silence for a moment. "Come sit," she offered, nodding her head to the ground.

He sat down next to her. The ground was damp from the riverbed and soaked into the legs of his jeans. He fiddled with the grass behind him, suddenly aware of her proximity in a way he could not ever remember being before. They sat in a silence that seemed comfortable for her, but was torturous to him, and he worried she would hear his suddenly harried heartbeat—it was pounding in his ear like a drum, certainly she had to be able to hear it as well.

"And now we rebuild," Misty said softly, suddenly, and Ash immediately felt guilty from focusing on the sound of his own heart when in reality, their world was still broken into pieces.

"Yeah," he replied, uncertain as to what he could say to offer comfort. "I'm sorry about your gym, Misty," he added softly.

She shrugged her shoulders with a forced lightness, shrugging off his apology. "It's all right," she said with the air of one trying to convince them both. "It's just a building." Ash knew she was thinking of Koga at that moment, of the far more precious things that had been lost, things that could not be rebuilt or repaved. Across Kanto, the gyms were destroyed but the gym battles were underway once more now that the leaders had returned, those leaders using their creativity to secure a temporary location as they rebuilt. It was almost a final act of defiance to the memory of Lucinda. Trainers battled, badges were won, and the dream was always a little bit closer.

Except, of course, for those who visited Fuchsia City, where the gym remained closed and the Soul Badge out of reach while Janine took the time to mourn her father before she took up his duties.

"Do you think Brock will go back home?" Ash asked, thinking of his friend back at his home, making breakfast alongside Ash's mother.

Misty nodded. "Probably. He said he needs to look after his brothers and sisters while his dad works on rebuilding the gym."

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. It would have been fun, though, to have him along again—me, you, Brock, and Tracey." Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to him. "You're not going home, are you?" he asked, concerned.

She paddled her feet back and forth in the water, a thoughtful expression no her face, while he sat tense, awaiting her answer.

"No," she answered after what seemed like an excessively long time, and Ash felt his shoulders relax and hoped that his relief wasn't too obvious. "My sisters will hire someone for the manual part of the job of rebuilding, and they have each other. Besides," she added, looking at him with a bit of a smile on her lips and in her eyes, "I am home."

His mouth went a bit dry and he swallowed hard, unsure how to take that statement. She was home…here in Pallet Town? Here by the river? Or did she mean…

Before he could properly contemplate what she meant, however, she had already moved on, turning her gaze up river, towards Viridian City. "This is near where we met for the first time," she commented, gazing as though she could see, awhile upstream, the young girl she had once been fishing a young boy from the water.

What a chance of fate that fish hook had been. It had never before truly hit Ash just how easily he could have continued on by and missed meeting the girl who would become his best friend, who would change his life forever.

He laughed, the sound burbling forth. "Yeah, I guess it is," he said. He hesitated, then a bit sheepishly, told her, "I'm sorry I wrecked your bike, Misty."

"Don't be," she replied swiftly. "I'm not."

Ash laughed again, remembering the many storms the girl next to him had raged over him for first stealing, and then promptly destroying, her bike. After all, she had followed him for years because of that. And sure, by now Ash was pretty sure that Misty probably also enjoyed—or at least tolerated—his company but there was still a reason, besides lack of funds, why he was so reluctant to replace it. "Yeah right," he teased, "I remember how angry you were about that thing."

She nodded. "Oh, yeah, I was angry," she agreed. "But I'm not sorry it happened. Otherwise I never would have come with you."

His breath caught in his throat and he dropped his gaze to the ground in case his face was turning red. He pulled at the grass and peered up at her from under the brim of his cap while he contemplated her words. As before, she didn't seem to share his discomfort, but this time she seemed to pick up on his, and she smiled, maybe a bit nervously.

"That's not to say," she said warningly, "that you still don't owe me a new bike. You're still gonna have to pay up someday, Ketchum."

Ash laughed, relieved that she broke the odd air that had fallen around them like a thick fog. Her face cleared, and she laughed too, and he wished he could explain it to her—explain how when she looked at him the way she had been, his heart thudded somewhere up in his throat and it was racing away, and he felt a little dizzy because of it. Maybe she'd know why. Maybe she'd be able to explain it.

She had always been so much smarter than him, though of course he'd rather die than admit that to her.

In the past, he would have made a crack about how getting her another bike would be the only way to get rid of her, but today, for some reason, he held his tongue, fearful that she would take his words for truth as opposed to playful teasing. And he didn't want to get rid of Misty.

"Yeah, well," he said, laughing nervously, "you might be waiting for awhile. Pokemon battles don't pay enough for a bike."

She smiled, seemingly pleased at that. "That's okay," she assured him. "I can wait. I'm not in a hurry."

"Ha!" he exclaimed in jest. "Since when? Man, when we first met all you would _talk _about would be that stupid bike, asking me when I was going to get you a new one."

She made a face at him. "Things change," she reminded him. "That was a long time ago."

With a boldness that surprised him, Ash inched his hand over a bit so that it covered hers, where it was resting on the damp ground. "Yeah, I guess they do," he agreed, feeling a flutter of nerves in his stomach as he carefully gauged the reaction on her face.

She, much like him, looked a bit surprised at the sudden movement, although not, to his relief, upset or angry. Rather, she studied his face with a thoughtful look in her eyes, and then, suddenly, carefully, she leaned over towards him.

He froze in place as her face loomed closer, and he was pretty sure that at any moment, he might throw up his heart; it was pounding so loudly and uncomfortably in his throat. How was it that this moment, sitting by the placid river with his closest friend, was so much more terrifying than everything he had faced in the last five days? It was a similar feeling to how he had felt standing on the edge of the cliff, high above the churning water—the feeling of being on the very end of something so much bigger than himself.

And if he stepped off, there was no turning back, and there was no telling what would happen once his feet left solid ground.

Misty's eyes were very blue, and he could see his own petrified expression reflected in them, and it was comical, really, how frightened he looked.

Her nose bumped against his, and she laughed a bit, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly it was okay. Suddenly, he wasn't afraid anymore. The terror rushed from his body and rolled off the bank and into the river, and he laughed, too, relieved.

Then he closed his eyes when he felt the brief touch of Misty's cool, dry lips against his, a feather-light touch, and it took him a moment to realize in full that he was _kissing _Misty, he was actually _kissing _her, or maybe she was kissing him, he wasn't sure if there was a difference…and that really…it was actually pretty nice. Uncertainly, he rested his hand against her shoulder, almost afraid to do anything more than touch her in an almost casual way, which was silly, wasn't it? When they were _kissing_?

"Oh _please_—I think I'm going to vomit."

Misty drew back quick as a flash, so quickly that Ash lost his balance and toppled over, and really, he had never, ever hated Gary Oak more, and all his former gratitude for sending help from Pallet Town flew out the window. No, Gary Oak was exactly the same jerk he had always been, and Ash glared up at him from his position on the ground as Gary leaned over him and smirked.

"Really, Misty, I think you could do better. Like say…a Snorlax. Or a Muk."

Misty's face flushed a bright pink. "Buzz off, Gary," she snapped, irritated.

"Well, that's not very grateful of you, is it, when I saved all your 'hinds?" Gary asked, obviously impressed with himself. He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side, still giving Ash that familiar, self-satisfied smirk. "And that was after Ash so gallantly left me for dead in the middle of the ocean."

"I did not," Ash replied, offended at that. "I couldn't find you! Plus, you were the one who said I should steal the boat in the first place!"

"Yeah, yeah," Gary brushed off Ash's protests nonchalantly. "You still owe me, Ashy-boy." He eyed them both skeptically. "And really, Ashy, I have to say, this is a scene I never thought I'd see. I mean, you're just _such _a dork that it's hard to imagine how any girl could ever see past the cloud of 'loser' that hangs around you."

Ash leapt to his feet at that, predictably incensed at Gary's insults. And yet at the same time, there was something almost relaxing in the familiarity of the argument. Maybe it was knowing that despite all the dangers and changes they faced, Gary would always be the same: a grade-A jerk.

"Calm down," Gary laughed, waving a hand in Ash's direction. "I didn't come here to fight with you. You just make it so ridiculously easy sometimes that I can't help myself." He poked Ash on the shoulder. "You gotta learn how to control that temper of yours, Ashy-poo, or it'll get you in trouble."

"Yeah, well you gotta learn how to shut that mouth of yours, Gary, or it'll get _you _in trouble," Ash shot back, his fists clenched in loose fists. But despite his bad temper at Gary's jabs, and his irritation at being interrupted, he couldn't help but be relieved to see that Gary was all right.

Gary raised an eyebrow, obviously unimpressed at this comeback. "Well, I just came to make sure that you actually made in through in one piece. And figured if you wanted to sing my praises, I'd allow you to do so. But I suppose there's only so much class I can expect from you, Ashy." He chuckled a bit to himself. "Catch ya later."

Ash glared at Gary's back as he started heading down the path towards Pallet Town, and when he was a fair distance away, he called out. "Hey, Gary!"

He turned back. "What?" he demanded.

Ash was silent for a moment, studying Gary carefully. And finally, he offered his long-time rival a half-smile, the right corner of his lips raising slightly. "Thanks," he said, and he meant it.

Gary looked a bit surprised—it was obvious that he hadn't really expected to be thanked, and that he had only counted himself lucky to come upon Ash in what was a potentially embarrassing situation. After another pause, he nodded awkwardly, the animosity gone from his expression, and Ash's smile grew just a little bit.

And then Gary turned back and started walking again. Ash felt no urge to call him back—Gary was merely heading back to Pallet Town. He would certainly see him again—probably long before he actually wanted to see him.

It was then that he remembered what Gary had stumbled upon when he had found Ash and Misty, and he glanced down at Misty, still seated by the riverbank.

She kept her eyes on the ground, kind of picking at the grass again, her cheeks still pink with embarrassment, and she didn't speak. Ash studied her carefully for a moment, and it occurred to him that she was giving him an out. Gary had diverted them from the awkward aftermath of a first kiss, and now she was giving him the chance to pretend that it had never happened. It wasn't often, that Misty let him take the lead. It was just that for once, Misty was just as uncertain as he was.

But funnily enough, he felt a lot more sure of himself now.

He smiled and extended his hand down to Misty. "Come on. Mom'll be making lunch soon!"

She gave him a curious look, but took his hand, and he pulled her to his feet. "Is food the only thing you ever think about?" she grumbled as she found her footing.

He grinned, a little bashfully, and didn't release her hand. "Nahh. Not just food." She gave him another quizzical look, and Ash gave her hand a little tug. "Come on, let's go home."

She smiled now, prettily, almost shyly, a sort of smile he wasn't really used to seeing on her face, and certainly not one that one he was used to seeing directed towards him.

"Yeah," she echoed, their linked hands swinging back and forth between them as they walked, so symbolic of something new. "Let's go home."

FIN.

* * *

Wow. It's hard to believe that this is finally, finally the end. Despite losing interest in the fandom in the end, this was definitely a labor of love, and I'm a bit sad to see it at an end. This is the longest completed fanfiction I've written, and my first sort of adventure-epic.

First of all, I apologize again for taking forever. Thank you to all of those who have stuck with me on this crazy journey!

Thank you to every single person who has taken the time to read and review. Thank you especially to Spruceton Spook, Bittersweet Romanticide, Pikagurl, and Milotic, who have read and reviewed since the beginning so long ago. Thank you for your dedication and your always insightful, thoughtful reviews. I am so lucky you came across my story!

Thank you to the 135 people who have added this story to their Favorites list!

You may have noticed that not all of your questions ended up being answered in this final chapter. That's because I want to keep the option open for someday doing a sequel. I don't know if I will or will not, knowing how hard it was to finish this in the end, but some of the endings are purposely left open.

Lastly, I'd like to take a moment to plug my latest project: Right now, I have to keep a blog for one of the computer courses I am taking. I decided to review toys and trends of my childhood, which was the 90s, and see if they stand up to the test of time. Pokemon is covered! If you're in your late teens-mid 20s (or any other age, of course!) and want to read my sometimes snarky, sometimes thoughtful, always nostalgic thoughts on Skip-It, Pokemon, Pogs, Easy-Bake Oven, Furby, and much, much more, please visit! The link can be found on my profile page. Please leave your thoughts—I'd love to generate a big following!

Thank you again to everybody! I hope you have enjoyed this series, and that the ending lived up to your expectations.


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